The Shifting Spirit of the Modern Man

Beating a Dead Gift-Horse In the Mouth
November 28, 2008, 8:06 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

   On my 19th Birthday, I was convinced that by the time I turned 27 I would be enlightened. Having made the biological cut, and not having been killed on one of my many adventures around the world, especially to developing countries, part of me has a certain pride of survival. The jungles have not swallowed me up. The mountains have not broken my bones. The beaches and ocean have not taken me into the abyss. And the cities have not stolen my body, mind or soul. And yet, like the fall of Icarus, I am left with a sense of defeat, that comes in the form lacking true belonging, purpose, and fraternity.
   I feel that the last generation of men has utterly failed their ascendants, leaving us mentally, and ecologically polluted, with values based solely upon individualization, gain and exploited people and lands. I have seen the band of yuppies arrive on the slice of paradise to make condos, infinity pools, resorts, and hotels. I have seen the locals cry at losing sacred lands, or cry at losing even not-so-sacred jobs, and to me there was a fight brewing within. 
   This fight was originally taken as make as much money as I can, so I can buy up the lands, and support sustainable jobs for the locals, their traditions, and their lands, but as I returned back to New York, and sampled the world of the “Almighty’ Stock Exchange in order to acquire these funds, I found, that the roots of this tree of decadence were indeed rotting from within. They say that the fish rots from the head down, and I feel most of the 18-30 year olds have gotten the tail end, with capital being securely hasten by 1-2% of the last 2 generations, and the only ‘opportunities’ to get ahead, being borderline legal or illegal entrepeneurial endeavours, what is left but to proverbially cutting the head off to spite the face… 
    Wealth = Ownership, and due to the longevity of our modern elders, we haven’t really seen to much back here at the end. I have lived with African multi-billionaire Steel tycoon heirs, as well as the latest installment of Texas’ Oil Barons, and NY’s upper eschalon, and even they are so spoiled and abandoned that when the day comes to inherit the spoils of their elders, they will with great precision know exactly how to party and spend it, but they will, much like, the present day teens, need to learn how to work.
   It was said by a professor of Harvard, that graduates today are indeed more intellegent, test wise, GPA wise, but as far as independant or creative thinking, only a barren wasteland resides.
   So, having the ‘luxury’ of having a cool father, who was a blast, very generous, who busted his ass more than most of the men his age, still, he like others, were unprepared to take me through the rites of passage that manhood begets.
   I know very few men who, much like Icarus and Daedalus, have had the priviledge of being guided to learn to fly. We are bought wings very young, and yet handed instructions or being told to figure it out by watching others, but I know too many priviledged and underpriviledged men my age, who flew straight into the sun, like a moth repeating folly into a lightbulb, the images of wealth on television and on the city street, all paid for by over inflated credit, has created an image of warrior that flies for the lightbulb instead of the Sun.
   The computer over the chisel, the restaurant over the fishing line, the dartboard at the bar, instead of the arrow at the deer. We have been taught intellect over intuition, pride over provider, a worldly pallate above the keen eye of a hunter, and thusly, we are unprepared for when the light bulb goes out and doesn’t come back on. 
   The Sun is the Masculine, and the path of flight is the middle way, although who takes a moment in a land where time is money, to aid the ones who will take their place, with the only thing that the young need, and the elders do not have, time.
   I have placed much hope in the years of 2012-2013, in coordinance with Mayan prophecy, to which most of the indigineous and scientific world have come to agree will be pivotal. Sadly, I rest my investment of life on a shift, whether from the Sun, the earth, or the cosmos, I place great emphasis on Earth taking down the machine, and leave us with an interdependancy and most importantly time. 
   The last two generations have painted us into a corner, with the occasional voice of truth poking through the mitigated artforms and literary scholars, but the question remains, what is the Modern Man?
   The best defintion I have come upon has been from an India Guru/Mystic, called Osho, and his idea that we must become Zorba the Buddha. A person who is total in his passion for the outer world, but being able to dwell amongst the infinite oneness in meditation. In my travels, these men are indeed rare, but when I have met them, usually in circumstances of great synchronicity, they have made a wondrous mark on my journey, and are the ones who are the only hope of an ‘Earthly Family’. 
   Generally speaking, most of them are cut off from the tribal wave, magicians of the archtypal scale, men who have vision,survival instinct, love and guts that make a true role model. These were the men that stood next to the king for his counsel. The mystics, the visionaries, the shaman, the alchemists, all but left to live more remotely, or in secret, or in denial, or writing books that are drowned out by the megaphone of Cosmo and Maxim. There is no school, no group and no belonging for those of us with a warrior body and a sages soul but the jail cell or the battle field, and that is why folks are depressed.
   Seems like with the resurgence of the Warrior and the Magician archtypes, we wouldn’t need to contain our brothers of strength or of vision, in cages or 6ft in the ground but give them the megaphone to lead us into times of enlightenment.
   I now sit, spinning the globe, looking to return to a land that embraces hunting and gathering the sacred over the profane, who regards the physical body as strong over a vessel for money transfer, the emotional body as something to explore and not to feel ashamed of, the mental body as something to use and not to be abused by and a spiritual body to embrace as opposed to neglect. 
  There are people my age who will eventually seize the reins of this dying, writhing dragon of ego and awaken to the need for the real Great Adventure that has derailed into the realm of freedom, which the elders will refer to Anarchy, but what else are we left with? We have to get off the hellride of the decadent roller coaster, and coast on the wings of the ancients and the few courageous people strong enough to lead the way…
   After having lived on small islands around the world that catered to the traveller spirit, I am assured humanity will be continue, but few of us will get to walk on. The men who have fished to eat, the men who have built a fire to survive in harsh climates, the ones who’s immune system is not weak from Purell and antibacterial environments will have the fortitude and resources to survive, but for those who have never left the urban sprawls, who would not eat if the market down the street did not open, these are ones with tombstones in their eyes. 
   These people who know how to wield the sword, the gun, the fist, will create a great deal of havoc, yet the ones who wield the depth of intuition will find themselves in the right place at the right time, to inherit the only thing our families were nice enough to biologically pass on, love and 11 million years of hunter/gatherer instinct. 
   And so castles made of sand, fall in the sea, eventually…