Saturday, January 16, 2010

Speaking Personally

There are times that I feel like Sisyphus (no, that’s not a lisper talking about an STD). Oh, by the way, this is going to be a bipolar piece of writing as I attempt to share my thoughts and tag them with parenthetical asides as I meander through the landscape of my once-fertile mind. I am radically ticked off. I look around me as I skim through my daily reading of the news (usually about two to two and a half hours), and I see madness. One would think if you know me or read my work, that I would feel quite at home in the center of madness. That’s not the case, however, because even crazy people sometimes perceive that craziness is nuts. I have a passion for freedom. Throughout my sixty-some years that passion has varied from a tiny ember in my soul to a flaming inferno of frustration. As a child, I would chafe at the rules of my parents. Usually, I recognized the reasoning behind them, but I resisted and resented their application. I know…I know…I know that no one else can look at me and discern exactly what it is that I am thinking at that moment. They may have some sense of my thoughts, but they do NOT know precisely what is fermenting in my conscious self. I knew this at a very early age, therefore, I became starkly aware of my uniqueness…and correspondingly, aware of the unique properties of every person.

As one who struggled to grow up in the Sixties, I went through much of the dissonance associated with one who wants to “find himself” without totally disengaging from the planet. In my moments of self examination I often wondered if those who had preceded me had their own quiet moments of self examination. Perhaps they were too busy scuffling for food and shelter to have the luxury of thoughtful introspection. But then I discovered that the philosophers of the ages gone by had questioned many of the same issues as I…and in most cases had done so more thoroughly and more lucidly than my feeble quest for answers. So, maybe I’m not so unique…which technically speaking, means that I’m not unique, but at this very moment, in this place, under these circumstances…I am unique. (Stupid metaphor coming, ask my daughter about it) Like a snowflake that is unique (I still can’t grasp this concept), I fall into an environment or an age and blend into the snow bank. Is my uniqueness now gone? Or is it merely suppressed by the millions of unique snowflakes clustered around me? Is it possible that underlying the softly falling snow is a cacophony of sub-auditory shouts screaming “Hey, its me, I’m here, hear me, see me!”

To the point: So far this exercise has seemed to be wallowing in self aggrandizement. I suspect, however, that everyone goes through a similar process at some stage in her/his life. If this is in fact true, then the burning yearning for freedom is present in each of us. Some of us hide it in order to be liked. Some of us have it extinguished by others who degrade us or denigrate our dreams. Some resist the efforts to drown the spark and fight back with a vengeance. Here I sit in my mid-sixties on my 5-acre little patch of paradise. I should be relishing my time to write, to garden and to create sawdust in my woodworking shop. Instead, I’m becoming politically active again…against my better judgment. Rather than maximizing my precious moments with my three grandchildren, I engage in a flurry of activity for a cause that seems lost. That little spark is now a conflagration, the lonely snowflake doesn’t want to melt into nothingness.

I am now a Libertarian. Yes, I have joined a band of misfit dope smokers, wild-eyed anarchists, adamant atheists and geeks. I have also united with people from all walks of life and various backgrounds who KNOW that the unrestrained growth of government will dampen the spark of liberty in each of us. They and I know that as government grows larger and more oppressive, it consumes the oxygen of opportunity, the air of dreams, and the hope of freedom. In our historic past when freedom-lovers felt the crush of too much government or restriction, they pulled-up their stakes, loaded their wagons and headed west. There are not too many places for the freedom-lovers to go now, so many of us have come together to take freedom back from the dream stealers. As many of you know, I used to be a Republican…an ardent one. But the party and too many of its representatives have failed. They give lip-service to the basic principles of freedom, then tag along trying to “improve” liberal legislation rather than fighting to defeat it. Too many Republicans have joined the professional political class where holding the job outranks doing what is best for the country and their constituents. So, I’ve attached myself to a motley group of rank amateurs who merely want freedom to thrive.

I am a Christian. A fundamental, evangelical born-again believer in the divinity of Jesus Christ. Some might think that my faith would place me 180 degrees from the political position that I have embraced. Au contraire, dear Reader, three bedrock elements of Biblical Christianity are faith, grace and freedom. Original Christian believers do not want an oppressive overbearing government to dictate the parameters of their belief. Many of the early colonialists migrated to our shores to escape repressive state-supported churches. As long as the state has an interest in religious behavior, then an individual’s practice of faith will be circumscribed or limited. Grace is God’s gift to me as a result of Christ’s going to the cross, taking MY sin with Him into death, and rising to life. As a result of his paying the debt for my deplorable words and deeds, I am free to reconstruct my life, my attitudes, and my priorities without the monumental guilt of my past transgressions. Does Grace suggest that everything I do from now on is guiltless? No, of course not. The gift of grace has made me more cognizant of my weaknesses and my hurtful actions, but grace has freed me from the paralyzing fear of erring or seeking the approval of others. Some place their faith in the government. I know from my experience that their faith has been misplaced. Some place their faith solely in themselves. With all due respect to their intellects and their motives, that’s not enough for me. Through my personal experience, I know how lacking, how fragile and how misplaced it is to trust only in oneself. So give me freedom surrounded by a bunch of headstrong Libertarians, and I will practice my faith without harassment while having ample opportunities to explain it and share during typical Libertarian bull sessions.

This column to some degree has been a cathartic undertaking. On the other hand, it is only a beginning. I don’t know if anyone will read this…or read all of it. Perhaps someone who loves me will read it and call the EMT’s to come and take me away to the funny farm. I suspect that if I were confined by the folks in the white coats that it might be somewhat akin to how our entire country will be sometime in the future. So I’m a born-again, born-again (yes, I meant that twice) Libertarian. I may be crazy and have some loony associates, but our goals are worthy. I’m sure that some people thought that John Hancock or Nathan Hale were crazy. I know they thought that way about Sam Adams and Tom Paine. I joyfully join this ragtag group who truly love this country, but more importantly…love freedom. Freedom works anywhere, anytime. Other generations fought for our freedom (many of them Christians), now we must fight to restore our freedom. Please go to http://www.lp.org/
 and http://www.lpo.org/ to get just a tiny taste of freedom.

Please respond or email: cnpearl@woh.rr.com

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