Whoever or whatever the Spirit may be, we are doing just fine, with an eternity to go.

I know the Spirit as the One, whom I am with in the Void, and thats who she says she is, the infinite eternal formless One, who takes a female form to be with me, at least in my own plane of existence in the Void.  Im happy with that.  I understand that.  I dont need anything else.

Who or what It is to you is an entirely different matter, and not my concern.

We all have our own relationship with the One, even atheists who choose to have no relationship at all, that is their relationship.

The relationship is between Creator and Created,  That is the sum of *duality*.

Helping:

1) someone asks for help;

2) you fully consider what they have told you in relation to your own knowledge and experience;

3) you offer whatever help or advice you can, safely.

Not Helping:

1) you observe other peoples actions and/or ideas;

2) you see how totally screwed up they are in relation to your own knowledge and experience;

3) you presume to *correct* them by whatever means you can muster, be it criticism, ridicule, or whatever.

In helping one is being a mensch.  In not helping one is being an ass hole.  See the difference ?

What I think is not important.  It just is what is relevant to me, and I am not important.

What you think is not important either.  It just is what is relevant to you, and you are not important either,

Importance is the bastion of the ego.  From a Zen point of view, holding anything to be important reinforces our own importance, even if it seems to be done in a helping or compassionate way.  Thats just the ego in disguise. 

I still hold one thing to be important, the Self, the One, the awareness at the heart of all being, who we all are at our core.  Nothing else matters to me.  That sums me up pretty nicely.

As Mrs Smith was patiently waiting for her husband to pick her up at the corner of 9th and ivy, a young boy in a scouts uniform took her by the arm and began to lead her across the street.

*What are you doing, young man?*, she exclaimed !!  *Im helping you to cross the street maam*, said the boy.

*But I dont want to cross the street, Im waiting for my husband !!*, she said.  But the boy persisted saying, *That doesnt matter maam, because I am a boyscout and helping little old ladies across the street is what I must do !!  Clearly you simply dont know that you are supposed to cross the street.  Otherwise how could I help you, as prescribed in the Boy Scout Manual? You need to be corrected maam.*

With that she began beating the young boy around the head and shoulders with her umbrella, shouting, *I will correct you, you freakin little bastard !!  And who are you calling an old lady, Im only 36 for Christs sake !!*

"
.........

Wow, you're really angry.

I mean... *ahem* ... the lady in the story was really angry.

Good thing no one is grabbing your arm.

Quote: "On second thought, starduster, I don't think it would be a good idea for us to sit and have a beer together. You're short-tempered enough as it is. I'd hate to be around when you got a little alcohol in you. :-/ "
.........

Once in awhile someone thinks they should get in my face.  Im so mild mannered and probably look easy to scare.  But when I get back in their face, and they somehow realize their life is at stake, they change their mind.  I am easy going and mild mannered, until the adreneline kicks in and then all bets are off. 

We all have things we are working to overcome.  Ive seen my dark side, and it makes Ghengis Kahn look like a brownie scout.  Killing is such a rush.  Last time, a big indian got in my face at a casino, threatening to *break my head*.  I got back in his face, nose to nose, snarling and growling, literally.  It was so intense it was all I could do to keep from laughing.  He said, *Do you want to die?*  I got back in his face and asked, *Do YOU want to die !!* 

I figured one of us would be dead in a few seconds, preferrably him, but instead of making his move as I expected, he started laughing and hugged me.  I broke out laughing and hugged him back, saying, *F-ing A, man, that was intense.*

Alls well that ends well.  But I probably shouldnt go dirinking with you, esoteric, because you piss me off.  Anger? No, more like disgust and irritation. However, I would probably do well to go out with your ex wife.  We could give each other a lot of sympathy and understanding about you, for instance, and then maybe go back to her place for a little oooh la la, if you know I mean.  Women like me because Im a cunning linguist, etc etc.  Its all about them.  Is she good lookin ?

Then again, you may be sensitive about such things.  I wasnt.  My ex kept getting ticked off at me because I was giving out her phone number to other guys.  What the hell, when guys asked if I would mind if they asked her out I said not at all and gave them her number.  I was all for it, because that would get her further down the road from me, which was what I wanted.  But I digress....