Continuing The Walk, which has led me to some extremely unlikely choices and necessary trials, the recent revisiting of my childhood has opened up some powerful places in my mind.
The video below is a clip of my Christmas in 1990…
I’ve kept this secret for so many years, because this—to me—was untainted, pure joy and peace:
The most conspicuous part of the weekend was when I did my daily ‘10,000 steps.’
Roaming from Embankment, to Charing Cross, to Trafalgar Square, to Leicester Square, to Piccadilly, down Regent Street, through Oxford Circus, down Oxford Street, turning to Park Lane, coming to Knightsbridge, through Sloane Square, and finally to Pimlico, my mind jumped between two distinctly different spiritual sources, or for those who disregard the existence of the spiritual realm, two ‘sentient energies.’
One source was a soft, humbled, malleable state, triggered by thoughts of how wonderful my childhood was and how much I miss the purity of family integrity. It held an idealistic hope, inspiring me to serve people and do my best to help anyone I can regardless of the circumstance or individual.
The other source was conceived from my observations, giving birth to condemnations of people that walked past me as I reviled the new age of our contemporary world in full living colour – a world nothing like Christmas 1990. A changing world that feigns that we’re the most connected community we’ve ever been when the Truth couldn’t be more the opposite. A world that has sacrificed sincere empathy for subjectivity morality, allowing us to do whatever we wish in accordance with living our self-indulgent ‘best self.’
I miss the experience and security of unified family. I always have. It’s been hidden in my heart for as long as I can remember, only to emerge in discussion after a few too many whiskeys during my university days.
Family is where it’s at…
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