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PostMillennial Virus

What remains
when gratitude for learning
totally evaporates?

I don’t know…
Totalitarian senility, maybe?
I guess I don’t understand
the source of your question, dear.
Do you feel less grateful for learning
than in more formative years?

No, I don’t
but I sense younger generations might.
A PostMillennial Virus.

I sense a growing gap
between compulsory educational systems
and compulsive learning,
longing to grab hold of understanding
and thereby appreciating,
or I suppose sometimes even depreciating,
our relationships
with internal seasons, to-ing and fro-ing
with other human natures
older and younger and about the same age,
same size,
more and less similar gender appreciations
with other cultures and languages
with other foodchain and predative networking species
with our extended families, speaking of predative networks,
our schools and faith communities,
still stuck on predative networks?
our planet,
all facets of Earth sciences and arts,
humanities and inhumanities,
objective delineations and subjective articulations,
outcomes and incoming creolizations
suggesting further nuances,
curiosities,
narrowing tributaries for graceful bilateral canoes
destined forward and back toward
furrowing adventure.

I think I’m paddling right behind you.
It seems less insane
to ask our purposes for education
than our purpose for learning,
especially if we have the subject and objective reversed
and learning is our purpose.

Perhaps growing mental health
rather than insane pathologies
of ingratitude and severance from cooperative natures
might best apply in either case,
of learning health
or teaching wealth acquisition
and co-investing management,
governance,
including civil civic voter evaluations
rooted in longer-term transgenerational futures
rather than how much money raised last short-term.

When did school, and politics more generally,
become entirely about competing
for best scored returns,
about anger management
rather than cooperative mentorship and co-facilitation
for learning all integrities of life;
opposing cultural disintegrations of decay and death?

About the same time
the political value of a dollar
merged with economic idolatry of capitalism,
as if competitive hoarding of ego-infested values
were synonymous with learning healthy democratic outcomes
rather than these two,
capitalistic totalitarianism and healthy democracy,
in oppositional tension,
mutually learning gratitude
for healthy
and cooperative
deep ego/eco-logical learning.

Compulsory learning
to become a more balanced ego-consumer and eco-producer
is like compulsory love,
like mixing threat with love,
like fearfully competitive suboptimal living.

So are you against compulsory education
for all?

No.
Yet I am against compulsory miseducation
because I am for grateful co-mentored learning
about cooperative classroom and real-world ecopolitics
increasingly swamped by competitive climates of pathology,
chaos about positive and double-binding negative psychology
dualistically equivocating and competing pedagogical systems
learning how to survive in a WinLose exegetical world
when we could relearn how to cooperate
in this WinWin more traditional classroom,
also known as ecosystemic Earth.

I can see where compulsive loving
sounds ever so much more fun
than compulsory loving.

Good point.
Learning is internally compulsive,
unless we mentor settling for externally compulsory,
left nakedly and overpoweringly alone,
rather than inviting multiculturing within.

No, dear, I said loving,
not learning.

Same difference.

Now that’s gratitude!
So what might you want to learn about loving
to more cooperatively learn right now?

Most any healthy thing
you might care to talk about,
or do together,
or talk and do.

Let’s try doing mutually grateful not talking.

How will we be sure it’s mutually grateful?

Not sure.
Guess we’ll just have to communicate
in other harmonious ways.

How about sex?

How about a pianoforte duet?

That’s what I meant to suggest.

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Uncategorized

Sounds of Safety

If the sound of a bomb falling
on someone else’s home
is the first way you can hear your own safety,
your community defense,
then you have buried older
more pervasive
sounds of love and laughter
of which humanity was made
from regenerative seeds,
not degenerate needs
to blast back.

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ReMembering Mortality

I wonder if something essential
to my individual identity,
our diverse ego centers,
must become recognized as waning,
on it’s
my
decomposing way toward death,
absence of hope for infinite future physical ego-integrity,
before it becomes possible to grab on to CoOperative Promise
with my more inductive eco-centering feeling left hand
to grow again from non-dominant
embryonic RightBrain organic seasonal beginnings
of listening for global multicultural integrity,
that matriarchal matters more, some Advent seasons,
and equally, during transitional birthing seasons,
and sometimes less revolutionary
yet still dipolar co-arising ego’s relentless waning.

Not just knowing death as incoming (0)-sum absence
of capacity to return love offered,
fear threatened,
but also gratitude for each eco-normative relationship
having become matriarchal integrity reborn,
some gone before already
and yet many to continue on
throughout this our eco-operating lines.

It is in my ego vulnerability
that Earth’s continuous matriarchal rebirth
grows reweaving
reborn,
both within my personal landscape
and across this our ecopolitical global climate.

 

 

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Sorcerer’s Apprentice

S/he knows hot cold felt co-passions
calling to become Bodhisattva Caller,
EarthTown Crier,
co-messianic prophet of brightest gloom
begging prophecies still hiding

winning our least best common denominations
racing diverse nurturing
of ecotherapeutic tranquilities,
resonant resilience
to both call and cooperative calling back
listening through speaking
what has fissured pathological cracks,

powers of matriarchal hurricanes
nurturing yet controlling
Earth’s patriarchal steadfast Peter rocks
deaf to nurturing calls of invitation
but best for flat plane echoing
climates full
uprising
evolving
revolutions
calling as we nurture echo-call,
crying as we nature fall,
supplying all we together recall
competing WinWin cooperations,

co-operators
of and for peaceful piracy,
creolic recreations,
trumping each reweaving species
relearning shared vocations
as Solidarity’s apprentices.

Climatic avalanches self-invite
what we co-invited yesterday
as bounty.

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HiStory Times

Once upon an evolving time
we were a great first nation,
or second nation,
depending on your historical perspective,
but definitely not a third nation
although some cooperative economists
thought we might be competing ourselves
in that over-invested and ego-inflationary direction.

This first and second nation
had grown tired of electing puppy dogs,
with bought and sold kennel cough
and regurgitation,
as Chief.

Living within this mighty nation was a Big Bad Wolf
who campaigned by shouting “Wolf”
and cheerleading for BigBad Woolfacism,
and the sleepy and bored people
found this exciting as if more entertainment
must be a change for better
rather than almost unimaginable worse
and so nearly half of them
stumbled into dog-eared polls
and elected Chief B.B. Wolf.

B.B. Wolf took his wolfish degenerative promises somewhat seriously,
thinking, sort of, and both reasonably and unreasonably enough,
this was why he was new Chief Wolf,
but became frustrated
as he learned the larger half who had impudently voted for Other
were more hoping for a Big CoOperative Wolf
which he considered more of a Big Bad Bitch.

Tired of hearing “Wolf!..Wolf!”
and “Come hither Bitch!”
twittered and beeped and compressed across every media outlet,
this battered tribe began turning off their radios
at mere mention of B.B. Wolf,
stopped choosing to read his anti-potlatch tweets,
boycotted every paper and editor and blogger,
story teller and poet
who dared mention Chief Wolf
and his campaign of blighting promises
and threats
and competing WinLose compromises
and fake news
and non-events
and non-plans
and non-design
and non-cooperative
and non-trust
non-sense
non-sensed
non-sensing
non-sensual
non-sensical scrambling politics.

This went on for near a week
before B.B. Wolf’s press secretary
called a Briefing
to which no one came but him, or her,
depending on which secretary drew the shortest straw that morning.
No one even briefly bothered hearing for sure
which came to represent
further dissonance and dismay.

By afternoon
even B.B. Wolf heard his own empty echoing chambers
and twittered “Never mind.
I’m the first and best Chief
to ever hold a Brief without pressing business anyway.”
Then announced he would be happy to try something new,
to mindfully listen to questions and comments
and concerns
to see if we might together become smart enough
to come up and down with some well-planned feasible answers,
somewhere this side of more fake non-news,
non-events,
etc…

Someone
way in the back of the smallest press room
in the smallest town
in the shortest State,
some BBB, no doubt,
as the Chief would later say,
asked him what Saudi Arabia
might have been willing to invest in
with less toxic outcomes
if he had offered wholesale
on trees and organic edibles,
wind turbines and solar panels,
natural construction and organic gardening
and nutritional militias
armed with our best good regenerative seeds
and permacultural nurturing designs
for care-giving and -receiving
and global cooperative health insurance
and mutual wealth of resonance assurance.

Still, he had promised to think about it
and so he did the best he could
within his echoing silo.
But the next day
all this nation’s media
on- and off-polypathic communication lines
that spacetime 4D regenerative mattered
twittered and tweeted
blogged and editorially bleated
mindful questions
and cooperative “Yes…and…” responses
listed blisteringly out loud
like positive organic healthy yeast
far too deep and rich for B.B.. Wolf to hope for continuing control
much less to actually nurture and manna lead
like a Big Good Wolf might have started,
and then watched what we together might have remade.

He “Wolf!”ed to agree to disagree
and did so endlessly
but all the larger half not in his fan base
and at least half of his smaller half of former followers
were much too busy
refilling all his negatives
with their WinWins
“Yes that healthy choice,
and how about this nutrition too?”
instead of their old degenerating
WinLose
anti-climatic ways.

This remained such the larger gospel reweaving story
B.B. Wolf had no one to rant at
and, frankly, not much to do
other than playing golf
and counting his money
which were his trump cards anyway.

And so it is this story began
with selecting Chief B.B Wolf
and ends
with everybody living happily
and healthy wealthing ever after.

A moral of and for this story:
That’s what big bad wolves are for,
to show you what is best
to more relentlessly ignore.

But,
I’m sure we can, together,
think of both…and nutritional more.

Our Beginning:

Once upon an evolving time
we were a great first nation
and second cooperatively matriarchal established state,
co-depending on her-historical perspectives…

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Laundering Her Accounts

New England’s late May sun was long up,
and yet her laundry began to unfold
and clip onto the droopy clothesline,
while yet to warm into 8 AM.

She wore a light spring jacket
and need not think long
about why and how much of water
she consumed each day
each month
each year.

These numbers are written on ledgers of her mind
and asset hanging body.
Food
and heat
and phone service,
electricity
and water
and even some of her compost.
All off-site store
and on-line purchases.

Balancing thoughts nutritional,
sometimes toxic piles of consuming laundry lists
from diverse and fragrant markets.
This was an easy stroll
down double-entry accountability lane
compared to thinking through what she had produced.

Which reminded her to breathe
and about air.
The good air she had breathed all year.
She had no bill for services rendered,
in large part by the trees,
but the ecology and chemistry are complicated.
Still, no bill.

And what about all the bad air she had produced?
No one seemed likely to repay her.
At least not with kindness.

Yet she had also produced some good air,
and so had her daughters and sons.
And she had produced them,
without as much help as she might have preferred
for so much poopy laundry.

Come to think of it,
no one had sent much of anything
for her investments in retaining this planet
with capacity for self-naming Earth,
or any other name either
as far and deep as she could linguistically foretell.

She didn’t bring home a paycheck anymore.
That could have been a measure of her production value.
Yet she was not so sure
which part of all those hours
and years
would end up on the positive regenerative asset side
of self and other investing income
and how much was more degenerative and toxic.
Both trends paid the same in cash,
but not within her warm-washed heart.

This was her accounting problem.
She could measure consumption with her mind and body
but she wanted to balance her production values
and disvalues with her heart,
maybe only because her mind could not wrap around
the positive and negative productive garnering numbers.

What did she produce in healthy amounts?
Too much clean laundry or not enough?
And what else might she over-produce
in toxic overpopulating quantities?
Is this all her kids could be and hope for?
Her contribution to inhumane overpopulation
to further deteriorate Earth’s healthier climates.
What futures would these well-worn clothes cover?

This must not be enough.

So she talked and listened with other women she knew,
including her mother and grandmothers,
but also her daughters,
about how they cooperatively and competitively approached
their double-entry accountability issues.

One grandmother
made a conserving assumption
that all her breath was wasted,
so entered her heart-felt numbers
on Earth’s negative side–
we are intrinsically bad for other nature-spirits.
But also made her balancing assumption,
all her intakes of cash were sufficient in return.
An even exchange,
positive feedback capital
balancing all her bad breath outflow.
Her clothesline
carried only her own clothes.

Her other grandmother
spoke of a rule
her mother taught and listened to tape-measure through each day.
If she had some negative feedback to invest,
it must wait until she had completely played out
any positive feedback
she could honestly express.
In this way she could predict
her positive productions
at least 0-sum balancing
with her negative airs
and positions,
policies and partnerships,
pairs and repairs of pants and socks
and other relationships;
her economic and political productions
across her project lifeline.

She said her goal was to consume
at least as wisely balanced as she produced,
to give at least as well as she had taken.

Her daughter went on-line
to frame a women’s global cooperative.
And then she quantified her negative consumptions
of mind and body
against and with her positive heartbeats and breaths,
to see and hope and hypostatically hypothesize
thermodynamic ecopolitical balance
as 0-sum WinWin
cooperative ego/eco-systemic balance,
slow-growing her matriarchal cooperative laundry ownership
of this women and allies cooperative
transfer and exchange market
for healthier global climates.

She followed her daughter on-line
to co-mentor with her global sisters,
and allies,
how we can add and subtract,
divide and multiply
our cooperative positive mutual dividends
invested for each other
more than WinLose against.

This did not necessarily resolve her ecological balance sheet
but her daughter’s on-line cooperative intention and outcome bank
of entries,
nested by individual within local bioregion,
did resolve and resonate with her accounting
by double-entry
regenerative v degenerative 0-sum balance issue.

Now what was in and on her heart and breath,
was also expanding out through cooperating breasts and chests,
WinWin more than competitive WinLose.

What continued in patriarchal Washington,
and other capital-consuming cities,
hoarding breath ’til smoke-filled blue
denying Earth’s climating pathologies,
faded back somewhat from terrorizing view
because this hoarding vision of contemporary history
was no longer the only cooperative-competitive game in town,
and across Earth’s matriarchally treed forests,
networks,
embryonic organic networks,
regenerative and decomposing lines,
perennial spirals
recycling productive Yang with cooperative consuming yin-fractal DNA
seasonal 0-sum
WinWin reiterative primal relationships,
double-positive-binds,
not just light
but bright,
not just love
but polypathic beloving matriarchal communities
of and for healthy accounting balance sheets,
hung out to dry
on this sunny warm breeze May day.

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In This Taoist’s View

Could we be doing our best
to invest in Earth’s cooperative health markets?
While you sell our most competitive killing machines
to our Saudi Arabian cousins.

Referencing this touchstone as an ecopolitical WinWin,
unlike Parisian multicultural investments in climate health,
as LoseLose,
remains upside down of any truly love-life frame.

Ballistic sales and buys are tragic ecopolitical failures
as are our hugely nihilistic military markets,
fueled by political-nationalistic fear-mongering,
anti-life and hope
could only cynically be seen and heard
much less smelled and felt
as WinWin success.
Bombs stink.

One hundred and ten billion dollars
for purveyors of future death and destruction
to, and around, Saudi Arabia
seems somewhat against climates of health
as compared to Parisian international agreements
to do our best
to turn from investments in further disinvesting death pathologies
to return toward climates
and ecopolitical landscapes of health’s wealthier
more robust and resonantly multiculturing
WinWin outcomes.

We have no prospects for wins that are truly anthro-economic
that are anti-ecologic.

Wealth blossoms from healthy roots.
It is not smart to try to plant and sell your roses upside down.

In Taoism,
and other zero-centric disciplines
and art-forms,
such as statistical trend analysis
and Permaculture Design
and Game Theory,
every position has its dipolar apposite;
every static implies a dynamic hypostatic,
as Yang implies apposition Yin,
as masculine strength implies feminist-matriarchal nurture,
embryonic wombed conservancy.

If God is love,
then also fear delineates God’s and Earth’s omnipotent boundaries
for therapeutic health.

Some would say love’s opposite is hate,
but here more resonant appositional contrast is ecstasy,
Eastern interdependent consciousness of bliss,
Western polypathy of experiential and logosed trans-paradigmatic wisdom,
as fear can distrust into chronic hate
so love can trust transcendent polyculturing ecstasies.

Climate health
is also about absence of climate pathology
which could lead to multiculural ecstasies,
Martin L. King, Jr’s BeLoved Communities,
resonant harmonies
of zero-sum ecopolitics.

But, we must choose love
for synergetic cooperative economics
rather than fear-mongering WinLose ballistic arms
for racing racism
for gender-commodifying sexism,
for cooperative capital reducing reductive capitalism
for substituting economism for ego/eco-systemic logic;
bring on more Left with Right
for less Left against Right,
bring on YangJustice with YinurturingPeace
Love with delineating Fear of Ego/Eco-Loss
of any regenerative future markets
of all-consumer and for all-producing health
as freedom’s wealth.

Religions, all, choose nature-spirit climates of and for sacred love,
health;
so our choices for political landscapes furthering fear
fade away from military industrialized
brother/sister extended hatreds.

We are better than addiction to sale of armaments.
We have learned already
to invest in multiculturing climates and landscapes
and languages
and cultures of and for love.

If love grows our cooperative capacities,
capital investments,
to optimize health as wealth
through each and every multiculturing WinWin
relational and transactional opportunity,
then it is not only a lie replacing Promise
to believe we can democratically point a loaded rifle
at someone’s product of love
within a smaller nationalistic spirit supporting life,

Death sales are also tragically missed opportunities
to further delineate
our polypathic possibilities of and for,
in and through,
before and after,
sacred ecological love,
our shared democratic multiculturingl Promise.

While there are two sides,
at least,
to every healthy resonating story,
the other side veers off
toward dissonate pathologies,
decay and even threats thereof,
paranoia and rabid ritualistic terrors
bipolar eviscerating history
rather than dipolar co-arising her/his-stories.

Every love story
includes its tensioned appositional,
fear of deadly growth
toward hate’s viral histories
of capital gains for aristocratic few
without ecotherapeutically mutual co-investments
in and for mutual freedom’s regenerative return.

We have our love creation stories
with, and happily above,
our fear-commodifying history
of threats and ecopolitical coercion,
capital love abundance
not yet entirely perverted into arcane reductivist capitalism,
supported by even more military industrializing sales
at most until Earth’s oil
then gas
then ballistics defuse our bullets
while jonesing for more cooperatively-owned love comes rushing in.

A Permaculture Designer
might observe we all agree,
Judeo-Christian American,
and Islamic Saudi Arabian,
our mutually beloved Allah-God is 0-core love,
from which all creations positive bright nurtured co-arise
double-binding all imaginations negative
dualdark bipolarities of competing defined exegetical contrasts
with dipolarities cooperating delineating eisegetical comparisons.

No bright white health nutritional trends
without dark black death decompositions
but calling climate health black
and darkdeath-mongering merely not quite unwhite
does not make alternative facts more true,
as trusting polypathic freedoms
to regeneratively optimize love
as and in and of and for
God and Earth’s future cooperative health.

One hundred and ten billion dollars for ballistics
for disinvesting God and Allah and Earth from each LoveOther.
Piracy of truth and goodness
perfidy of healthy trust
of and for future regenerations.
Self impeaching offenses against God and Earth as Love,
sold as cause for international celebration.

I am decidedly not buying.

Why not sell 110 million trees
at $100 each,
or 110 million solar panels?
Why lead off with our most toxic commodity?
It feels like massive failure of democratically healthy imagination,
and curiosity,
and intent toward wealth of therapeutic outcomes.

Is that really what they inappropriately teach
at Wharton School for Healthy Business?

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Uncategorized

Invite Our Day

Live each day
as if this day were your last.

What do you mean, dear?
Each day is your last day.

Well, no,
not if you have another tomorrow,
or perhaps even if you merely plan for a tomorrow
which never comes to pass.

Oh I see what you mean,
I think…
Well then,
wouldn’t you be better off and on to say
Live this day
as if it included your only tomorrow?

Maybe…
But, each day does include our only tomorrow.

I don’t think so.
Not if you have yet another tomorrow
after this day,
or one at least planning on being
more than one tomorrow.

What do you mean
by more than one tomorrow?
I thought I had only one of these,
which continually precedes and processes me
by a minimum of 24 hours.

Hmm…
Then sometimes your tomorrow feels longer
and sometimes shorter
than it should
or could
or might become?

But that’s just it, my dear.
Tomorrow never actually arrives,
ever closer by imagining it longer.
Yet imaging tomorrow as remarkably short
at least brings me closer
to Earth’s timeless eternity
of integrative promise.

So that’s what you mean
by living daily
as if today includes your last tomorrow?

Yes, but sometimes no.
That sounds like an invitation
to nihilism,
often confused with liberation
away from future’s regenerous invitation.

How about
Nurture each day
as if today invites your fullest potential
for integrally controlling all our cooperative tomorrows?

It lacks a certain
timeless
ring.
It does not rhythmic zing.
However acute is your ping.

How about
we Yin today
as if rethinking YangYin together
all WinWin tomorrows?

I think we might become
together winning.

Economically and politically too?

As trans-regenderally sacred
through this still small failing futures voice.

Are we through?

It’s been good for me,
how about tomorrow you?

The Climax
as tomorrow’s co-operative beginning.

How LeftBrain capitalizing of us, dear.

Yinning Yang
us two,
WinWin planning
our mutual transitioning tomorrow too.

Living today
as tomorrow’s first through last,
perennial spiral cooperating together
to sometimes compete tomorrows apart
to live again
this integrative timeless tomorrow.

Today invites and disinvites
Tomorrow,
transubstantiating
trans-regenerational
integrity of time.

Today is just like yesterday
except when it is different,
when we are different,
when I am different,
sometimes better
sometimes worse
usually just the same
and indifferent.

Today is just like tomorrow
imagined sometimes better
sometimes worse
usually invested cooperatively same as sane
and yet competitively indifferent
insanity.

Live today
through better inviting cooperative tomorrow.

Yin
as tomorrow becomes our best Yang.

Yin,
(wu wei midway co-arising).

You know,
I can see, and sometimes hear and feel,
your implicating dialectal parenthetical commentary.

(I dipolar hope so.)

Or what,
no better tomorrow?

(I love only notnot threat free,
double-binding.)

Ecopolitical logic for today’s tomorrow.

(cooperatively designing tomorrow’s today)

OK,
you can stop with annoying
book-ended
perpetual double-bind parenthesis.

I hoped we were just now getting started.

Yes, but I’m living today
so we optimize our tomorrow returns
so your Yimplications
might best explicate more widely.

(and deeply)

(Oh, now
you go through tomorrow…)

(Love
your dualdark Yanguage)

(How LeftBrain cooperative positivist of us.)

(feeling aptically warm and dreamy
nonpunctuating tomorrows now)

Promise.

(could we talk about this our tomorrow)

…I think she’s today asleep.

Nope, still almost here
and there,
feeling best in eternal interdependent now.

Seize the day.

Invite our timeless tomorrow.

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Conversion Therapies

I could not support a ban on Conversion Therapy
to change gay into straight,
spirals into lines,
because I believe we should each be free
to pay for any alternative languages
someone might be prepared to make
and write
and speak,
with self-marketing audiences to listen
with therapeutic outcomes genuinely preferred.

If some unhappy gay person,
or lesbian longing to be not,
remains willing to invest in persuasions
to switch teams,
transfer and exchange identities,
then that’s a high risk investment
that will die its own ego-exhausting death
when conversion
levels into diverse reversions
and/or some depriving perversion of healthy cooperating love,
or inversions into repressive silos called despair
and, more likely, some of all
of the above.

But, conversion therapy for unhappy gay to happy straight
only if this becomes equally available
accessible therapies
for unhappy straight toward happy gay,
for if it can work
to teach someone into a different dominant identity,
then it could work both ways,
more bisexually.

And, if conversion therapies can,
they should,
to be fair to all those unhappy
with their current team,
or teams,
preferably multiculturing toward health,
rather than monoculturing toward further climates of pathology.

Then we might invite further Conversion Therapies.
Unhappy Conservatives
becoming wealthier quasi-progressive
Earth natural-spiritual residents again,
and vice versa,
except more ecotherapeutic conservators
of regeneratively full-steamed life.

If all it takes is investing in some therapist
to convert my unhappiest attributes
into those that would make my new best ecopolitical day,
then such therapy should not just be free
from gay to straight
and straight to gay
but equally persuasive
for all now feeling out
wanting more in toward sane integrity.

But, investors beware,
we have had many WinLose Therapists
for unhappy powers to become more capital rich,
yet only few narrow WinWin unhappy rich
to become more simply and contentedly reinvesting
away from larger WinLose anti-therapeutic tragedies.

The larger WinLose therapeutic sector
has best outcomes
only for already full-played out entrepreneurial change agents,
and their larger scale not-so-therapeutic marketers
of further competitions
within and between
our diverse unhappy identities.

Conversion AntiTherapy
would be so funny
if not so ecopolitically tragic.

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Powers Good and NotSoMuch

If a person has power in your life,
and you notice fears and sense of threat,
dishonesty to be avoided
and yet you do not see hope
and sense of faithfulness to our integrity
as humanity,
then do what you can to disempower that person
from your life.

To begin,
notice how this person’s fears and threats,
competing insecurities and terrifying postures
feed your despair
to also teach you how to better feed your active remaining hope
for growing integrity within yourself
within your family
within others
within your culture
extending out
possibly to embrace all Earth’s faith-filling polypathic promise.

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