July 2, 2022
The Thunder Beings are a race of powerful storm spirits from Algonquian mythology that live in the sky and cause thunder and lightning…Thunder Beings are dangerous spirits who sometimes kill people with their powers, but they are also sworn enemies of the horned serpents and sometimes rescue people from those monsters.
~ Native-Languages.org, Native American Legends: Thunder Beings
I admit it, I got sucked into the date game. Again. The Supreme Court was supposed to rule on a world-changing, critical matter before the end of June. They did rule on important things but not the one thing that matters most to me.
What a trick, what a game it is, to keep my focus away from desperately desired things that aren’t happening. What a trick to refuse to dwell in anger about situations that I don’t want to be happening.
I’ve noticed whenever fear or anger or other reactions that we label as negative come up, many spiritual commentators chide, “That’s the ego talking. You know at soul level everything is exactly the way it’s supposed to be.”
I’m afraid that after a number of years of agreeing to this in principle, I’m still massively unhappy at the injustices and atrocities heaped upon humanity. I still believe that these wrongs have gone on far too long. An epic level of frustration builds, that whoever’s orchestrating world circumstances, reportedly for the good, seems to be dragging out the conclusion interminably.
It’s no wonder that I allowed a bit of hopium to wash over me last week. I feel fortunate that the Court’s apparent inaction on the key issue of election fraud hasn’t thrown me into too deep of a tizzy.
Another opportunity for thwarted hope looms near. Was it only a year ago that I had the same hopes for July 4 that I have now? That the reinstatement of freedom and re-ratification of the constitutional republic of the United States would slot into place like the final word of a story whose ending has come?
This Fourth of July, I’m going to make a big batch of potato salad and enjoy the glorious weather we’ve been having. I’ll listen to the fireworks boom from the beach a few miles away. If it’s not foggy, I’ll be able to see the highest fireworks at the very end as they rocket into the sky above the coast.
Even if it is foggy, a frequent July occurrence in Santa Barbara, I’ll still be able to hear the rhythmic, wild thundering of the fireworks. I’ll know they’re there even if I can’t see them.
In the same way, I must believe that good is being done and progress is being made in the fight to free humanity, even if I only hear occasional blasts of thunderous news, and never glimpse the brilliant sparkles of light that are orchestrating these final battles.