I honor the grotesque world that would be D.T. TrumpenCruz, President of the U.S. of A. I don’t seek it, but I honor it. I do so for the same reason I honor every other way that we, souls awakening, are abusing ourselves, one another, and our planetary home. The blood of unkindness colors the road to a healthy life. What spills that blood is ignorance, the mother of all suffering––and a sacred teacher.
If life’s purpose is to grow our capacity to love (as I feel it is), and every moment, every situation, serves that purpose (as I feel it does), then the specter of D.T. TrumpenCruz is a ripe reminder that our tenacity to make loving choices usually takes hold only after the consequences of unlove become excruciating. Who would bet the farm, or even a nickel, we’re at that point today? If D.T. TrumpenCruz were abducted by aliens and never heard from again, what problem would really be solved?
For an addict, meaningful recovery begins with bottomless despair, the kind that, if it doesn’t kill us, impels a commitment to go to any lengths never be there again. Ironically, humankind’s most destructive addiction is not alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex or Twinkies. It’s beliefs. At this stage of our evolution, too many of us believe there’s an us and a them––and it’s okay for those them people to suffer. Too many of us believe that things like our Nazi neighbor, or that we were provoked to curse,“Oh shit, doggie do-do,” as we walked to church, are responsible for our unhappiness. Too many of us believe it’s a good use of our time to hate. Too many of us have yet to attempt to meet the events of our life with the question, “What’s the most loving action I can take?” D.T. TrumpenCruz is a symbol of this craziness, this immaturity. A very useful symbol, if you ask me, representing what may be the universe’s most important two-word message after happy birthday: pay attention.
D.T. TrumpenCruz is noteworthy, but hardly special. He is a recent addition to the scroll of increasingly intense reminders, stretching centuries, of the price we pay for cultivating fear rather than love. That’s how the universe works: upping pain in direct relationship to the extent we ignore our divinity, until finally, in this life or one ahead, we cry Uncle and begin to make healthier choices. Look around, maybe even in the mirror: evidence of such choices grows, even flourishes in places.
Without intending to, D.T. TrumpenCruz is contributing to humankind’s inevitable embrace of one of the most valuable and dangerous prayers, the kind that makes our heart soar, yet scares the pants off our small self, because it delivers so much: “Lord, change no circumstance in my life; change me.”