Catalonia and fear

October 22 2019 (23:23 WEST)

Gdp-I_24

There are people, many people asking for exceptional measures of exception for Catalonia. The problem is that perhaps, just perhaps, Spain itself is an exceptional measure. Others call it a transitional measure. An exceptional and very long transitional measure that, at this rate, expires without 'transcending' to anything. And everyone, each one for their different reasons, will end up feeling betrayed. This makes it easier to understand why exceptional measures of exception are being requested. Some for independence, others for unity.

And, by the way, if the pensioners don't start burning containers, and force exceptional measures of exception for that strange country that is old age or old age or maturity or whatever they want. I'm afraid they will receive little attention beyond the vain electoral words. Because they always demand peaceful and civilized demonstrations and then, when they are like that, they don't give a damn. And, on the other hand, this thing they call civilization was not achieved solely on the basis of peaceful and civilized demonstrations.

Now that our country has become more exceptional, I wonder what would happen with these modernities, with the events that took place when we defended the non-installation of 'who knows what military things' in El Risco. I'm afraid that that day, when no one knows who, threw down the fences and people entered there and some of us were arrested; nowadays the law could have been applied as if we were terrorists. And some, for defending the yesquera, would be growing mallow in the slammer and not in El Risco. No joke.

So it is no small matter that one tries to 'transcend' on his own. And wait in the meantime, out of the corner of your eye, to see if the longest transition in recorded history ends. With so much explanation about the international conditions for which Catalonia cannot become independent, they are putting on the table that the Canary Islands, well, yes. Everything is paradoxical and in some way one ends up observing with the Catalan issue, how the extreme right-wing males and their Vox, in some way, are in agreement with the feminist party. At least in their opinion about the rebellion that is not a rebellion or is, according to the supreme humor of the Spanish and Catalan powers. Those who handle the money I mean. Those who threaten each other out of the corner of their eye and fang. You know, Pujol insinuating that he knows what Botín is. And where it is. And the State the same with the Pujol.

I take this opportunity to make another reflection. Before all this brawl, do you really remember any moment that would have made you feel good, happy, full, or whatever, the feeling, the knowledge, the perception, etc. that Spain was united, you got up in the morning and said: Jo!, how cool, Spain is one. Or you went to sleep thinking: Jo!, how cool, I fall asleep and Spain is one. So, take advantage of how worried you are now with the issue and reflect on the amount of 'things' you have and that sustain you or will sustain you when you need it without you knowing a thing now. For example, pensions, public health, the environment, freedom of expression, loved ones, the house that is standing. Others you already lost, for example the 60,000 million that the banks took, the labor rights that we had acquired, the nobody knows how many billions? that have been evaded, that is to say evaporated from this 'unique' country. And the future. Before losing it, the future was something else, which did not depend exclusively on whether the machines are going to save us or not.

About ecology and meditation today. It happens past the edge of dawn, when it has already cut through the night and the first pulses of light reverberate behind my eyelids. A sudden spatial cold emerges from the earth and with it millions of molecules that were linked in rings of dew are released alchemized by the night, hit the inside of my nose and like a fractal fan unfold intoxicating everything. They enter inside my being, opening the bud of even the last cell, activating any neuron capable of feeling. It's like throwing yourself into a river in the morning, but without skin? Ha!, metaphor?. Even more, as if a river entered inside you, through thousands of subcutaneous caves and its waters were a joyful caress. There is no corner of the body that is not subtly shaken. The day sprouts both inside and outside and the skin without borders shudders.

Before, 'I' at dawn, like a military sergeant, had been reviewing every part of my body. A slow, millimetric, implacable recognition with any absence. Be it an ear or a toe. The frontal lobe or the anal sphincter. Everything has to be present, vibrant and conscious. Any thought, any emotion, vision, sound or sensation everything at once. What unity are you going to achieve with the rest of the world if we don't manage to unite our own body!, the sergeant cries. How are you going to feel the other parts of the world if you don't feel yours! Where are they headed!, he bellows. And then you perceive that everything that is life was waiting for that instant. And you are part of those seconds of common participation, communion.

Those dew molecules, make us all suffer the same disorder. Each one in his own way, but the same. Plants, insects, birds, microbes? we are all intoxicated by that strange sudden dew. And there, there is an outbreak of something inexplicable; everything changes to another state of being. Nothing, nothing known by me resembles that 'sensation', ecstasy? And it lasts until you make the slightest gesture, the slightest mental movement. Any intention to observe it, breaks the spell.

Then, when the sun opens you to mental communication, to the infinite rivers of thought, you realize that extinctions are not only of species, but that this world that we liquidate takes away an infinity of experiences not 'experienced'. That known would have been more than enough for life to have been something a priority to protect and exciting to live. Because I am convinced that life for the vast majority of humans is not even worth living, let alone protecting. Beyond the pure physical instinct of survival or the pure mental fear of death. Or inertia; great force, inertia.

It doesn't matter what happens to this planet. There is a kind of weariness of life, its incomprehensible meaning and its vicissitudes. Such is the current mental state. Or so I perceive it. And I wonder if we will be able to invent something as subtle, as complex, as magical as the human experience. Now that we are inventing all day long. Perhaps that weariness of oneself is what drives humans to create artificial life? Intelligent? While allowing and killing and killing children who are more than intelligent, or adults? I dedicate my whole life to unraveling in myself the reason for the fear of death, beyond the reflex aspect of survival. Because I sense that that is what is killing us and with us is killing life on this planet. And if in one of 'these' I don't die, perhaps I can help in something to this planet of which I think I can be something more than a painful infection.

In other words, I believe that only by leaving the fear of death behind, one can transmute into a benign 'cell' with the capacity to recycle the malignant that is bursting the biodiversity of this planet. Because I begin to perceive that it is that fear that delimits, borders the two states. Separates and blinds. And we already know here, without going any further, the consequences of the borders. And the fear of death of what they border, if they move.

What we call politically 'state' is a perverse confusion, a profoundly conservative idea whether it is left or right. Because it tends to a monolithic unalterable declaration, when we know that everything is change, movement, evolution or involution. And as that is so whatever happens, one will always live in tension, in repression or revolution. Because the change of state is neither more nor less than the foundation of everything in the universe. And the state, the politician, never wants changes. And less his boss. Or the bosses of his boss.

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