Get out of the way
You’ve had your day
And it’s no longer how we gon’ play
The kids are having none of it
The kids are having none of it
They can’t be bought, they be taught your hate
I’m not worried, I’m not worried
We’re out here to evolve
I guess you missed the call
And to the party you are rather late
Can feel what has arrived
It’s fresh and it is so alive
The form will take reflection from the time
All you deal is fear, the easy way to steal
The likes of you should never hold the wheel
Always a mistake, to underestimate
watch them now, they’re stepping to the plate
The kids are having none of it
The kids are having none of it
They can’t be bought, they can’t be taught your hate
The Old Ways, The New Ways:
In 1966 late in the fall I started attending lectures at a Fourth Way School’s Symposium (The Prosperos’) led by Kenneth Walker (who had been a student of Gurdjieff.)
I was a student of that school for several years until I branched out into Sufism and Gaiian studies. I have though kept in touch with students and teachers at that school ever since, lots of good people, gentle souls. Some I have known from 1967 on.
One of the very interesting things that I heard in a lecture early on, and then later in conversations with a couple of the teachers in the school was that: During the Cuban missile crisis in 1962 there was an international effort by various spiritual, metaphysical and occult schools in conjunction with each other to prevent Nuclear War through meditation, prayer, magical acts as well as organizing, speaking to people, letter writing to newspapers and politicians.
This had me considering over time and in my meditations, what were the possibilities of combined work across the spectrum of the various movements in existence today? I know that within that school now, there is an active group working through the use of their various spiritual tools to help change the current situation.
So here are some thoughts. We have horrible situations unfolding, and ongoing in Yemen, Myanmar, Syria, and now the Ukraine to name but a few of the conflict/war zones. We have famine rolling through Africa, Southwest Asia. The world is still in grip of the Covid Pandemic. We have an ongoing worldwide climate crisis. It seems overwhelming, yet here we are at a juncture where we have tools to actively organize via social media, email, web pages, talking to family, friends, neighbors the same united spiritual front that in my mind, turned the tide in 1962. We know through studies now via Sheldrake and others that consciousness extends to all existence. By working in our homes, community, and online, we can and will make a difference.
What I Suggest:
The Old Ways, The New Ways – Gwyllm.com
I want to salute the students and teachers at The Prosperos for their Translations Group Work on World Situations.
Bright Blessings,
Gwyllm
The Two Of Us At The SideWalk Cafe, New Year’s Day. Photo: Phil W. or Lizbeth
Wishing you all a Happy New Year! I hope this finds you well, with loved ones, keeping warm or cool as ya need.
Here is a short tale about New Years Day, many years ago. this is from my Substack… You might enjoy some of the stories here: https://gwyllmllwydd.substack.com/
Enjoy,
Gwyllm
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We left London towards the end of November 1978 amidst sugar strikes, transport strikes, all kinds of strikes disrupting London and whole of Britain. It was even difficult to get out to Heathrow, but we took a Black Cab…
Landing in L.A. at around 10:00PM, experiencing US Immigration and Customs at it worst. (Oh, I have stories about this, but another time) My friend David T. picked us up at the airport at even though he was sick as a dog with flu and dropped us off at my good friend Mike’s over in Westwood. Mary’s first experience of the US freeways was the 405, chock a block full of cars racing along at around 80mph close to midnight…
Mike greeted us and gave big hugs to yours truly and Mary. We had been roommates off and on for quite a while and he opened up his apartment to the both of us, full of love and welcoming…
Within a couple of days, I was working again at the Sidewalk Cafe again and on her first visit there introducing Mary to all and sundry. The cafe then was a culture unto itself, writers, musicians, actors, comedians… Several became cultural icons along the way. An incredible crew of people.
She was amazed at the size of Los Angeles and at the weather difference between London and LA…. There’s nothing like the first trip to an American supermarket to shake up a European… (Mind you this was 1978 and not currently.) We spent two hours in the market with Mary checking everything out and going slightly whacked in the coffee aisle… “Too many choices!!!!”she exclaimed. We left the market; she was nearly in tears from being so overwhelmed by the evidence of American consumerism.
Not all of Los Angeles was so shocking to her, she absolutely delighted in Santa Monica and Venice, she took Hollywood in stride and marveled at Bel Air and Beverly Hills.
It seemed like one big party, she was met with much love and affection by all of my friends.
Life started to assert some routines at this point. We started to look for an apartment, my daily duty at the Sidewalk, our evening walks in various neighborhoods, visiting Rhino Records a few blocks up Westwood…. I took her to my favorite bookstore Papa Bach’s and the NuArt Theater up on Santa Monica Blvd. In those days I was still very much in love with Los Angeles.
We had arrived in Los Angeles with barely any money. After a couple of days of tips, I felt absolutely giddy and ran around the living room in Mike’s apartment throwing money into the air with joy. We had been so skint in London in the last couple of months after our marriage in October… I could now take her to restaurants, out to films and concerts. We would soon have an apartment…
Somehow coming into December, I was able to get New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day off from The Sidewalk Cafe.
New Year’s Eve is kind of a blur now I can’t remember if we were on speed or drinking or on speed and drinking but as it happens, we didn’t sleep that night. We had plans to meet up with Phillip Lithman and Philip W. along with Lizbeth at the sidewalk for drinks and hanging out.
Lizbeth had introduced me to Mary in London the year before. (That is another tale for later on.)
Phil W was Mary’s downstairs neighbor in Clapham Common, and my friend in LA where I had met him in the summer of 1977. Lizbeth, a friend who I had met in 1976 when I met her skating in Venice. She had married Phil w. to get him residency papers.
Phil Lithman as I have mentioned previously was a musician friend of mine who had played small gigs within LA. He has been in the pub rock band chilly Willy and the Red Hot Peppers in London and was working with The Resident’s in San Francisco.
We all settled in having a few snacks and more than a few drinks… We were all very excited and enjoying each other’s company watching the circus pass by us at the Sidewalk. Sea gulls collected along the Boardwalk, looking for treats and snacks.
Skeeter the maître d’ was immaculately dressed in a a white wool suit as he skated taking customers to the tables and dropping off menus. All of the recent transplants from New York were sitting around complaining about Los Angeles as they usually did, the skaters were going back and forth out on the boardwalk and a lone bicyclist was riding his bike whilst sitting on the handlebars pedaling backwards back and forth in front of the cafe…. A typical holiday afternoon at the Sidewalk…
And just about at that moment when everything just about blurred into perfection came a noise from the north, Malibu way… it was a fantastic rumble getting louder and louder I thought it was a military jet scrambling down along the bay.
No… it wasn’t an airplane but an earthquake, moving down the fault line along the coast. What was amazing was that you could see the Earth rolling towards us like a small wave moving on the surface as it got closer. The gulls took to the air in panic cawing loudly in dismay and confusion.
Mary cried out “What is it”? Having never experienced one before… Phil L. standing up, picking up his glass and another, said “Earthquake” in the most nonchalant way.
We all stood up grabbing our glasses as the wave moved along the beach through the cafe and the boardwalk. It passed directly under our feet, a rounded wave of tarmac on its way south. Mayhem ensued. Skeeter was thrown into a table full of dishes of fresh spaghetti… The bicyclist was thrown off of his bike and he landed on his back on the boardwalk looking quite dazed. Almost to a man all of the New Yorkers in the cafe jumped up and ran for their lives. One of them decided to run across tables to get over the railing so great was his panic, kicking plates and glasses everywhere.
You could hear people screaming up and down the boardwalk. We all sat down and continued our drinks as if nothing had happened. You could trace the path of the guest by empty glasses going up the boardwalk.
The management went out and gathered up guests and brought them back in giving free drinks to everyone. The New Yorkers of course were totally freaked.
As we sat there, free drinks in hand you could hear the noise now quite familiar off to the south and coming back our way very rapidly. The earthquake wasn’t done yet, the second wave of the fault moving was readjusting back north.
We were prepared this time, but others weren’t… Once more the bicyclist was thrown off his bike to the ground. The New Yorkers freaked out and ran out of the cafe, and the same man who had run across all the tables did it again kicking crockery and glasses everywhere. Skeeter was in the corner trying to clean spaghetti sauce off of his white suit to no avail, shaking his head, eyes wide with disbelief.
The boardwalk was in utter mayhem, glasses from the Cafe all over where they had been abandoned. We decided that perhaps it was time to go. Mary and I hugged the two Phil’s and Lizbeth and then headed back to Westwood.
Arriving back at Mike’s, we found him bumping around the flat already into the Brandy and ranting about the earthquake.
We settled in for the evening, had something to eat, some drinks and listened to music. We hung out for a while on the back entry/balcony smoking cigarettes as darkness enveloped the evening sky…
Eventually we headed to bed in the living room, settling in talking about the events of the day… As we laid there, I looked up above us on the wall, where Mike had a large, gilded mirror hanging. I decided to take it down, just in case. We started to drift off, and Boom!!!! Another quake. The building shook like it was resting on jello, the walls snapping back and forth. Mary grabbed onto me burying her head into my shoulder.
Welcome to L.A. my Darling!
One of our songs, from then: Dear Kate….https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/YSOACab2t7k?rel=0&autoplay=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=0
Poetry Break: My friend Whit’s new work. Worth your time!
From “The Ones Who Listen” by Whit Griffin — Caesura (caesuramag.org)
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I hope you enjoyed this missive; feedback always appreciated. Again, I wish you a good New Year, everyone deserves it.
Bright Blessings,
Gwyllm
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mBbw32Wvig
Referred Article:
https://mariannewilliamson.substack.com/p/january-6
January 6
What Really Happened
Today didn’t quite sit right with me.
Yes, the events of January 6th last year were horrifying, even criminal. Policemen trying to protect our democracy lost their lives. People used violence to try to stop a free and fair election. All that is terrible, none of it should have happened, and today is certainly a day to rededicate ourselves to our democracy.
But today’s commemorative events did nothing to address the deeper fissures in our society. The event itself, like Donald Trump himself, was the symptom of a deeper cause. And until we address that cause, then all the rapturous expressions of how much we love our democracy will be little more than clanging cymbals. Healing words mean nothing if they basically mean nothing.
Our democracy wasn’t just attacked on January 6; our democracy is attacked every day of the week, and has been for the last forty years. The real “attack on our democracy” wasn’t just one event that took place a year ago; it’s the larger pattern of legalized bribery that’s destroying our democracy from the inside. Every time resources of hope and opportunity are transferred from the many to the few, our democracy is attacked. The main point of attack is the systemic corruption that goes on in that Capitol building every single day.
This is not a time in our lives to pussyfoot around the truth. It’s not a time in our history to allow our devotion to something as ultimately meaningless as a political party to blind us to the truth of our circumstances. The real dichotomy in American politics is not between the Right and the Left; it’s between the powerful and the powerless. The political-media industrial complex, headquartered in both parties, has created the Left-Right culture wars to distract Americans from the truth of who and what actually oppresses them. Our fellow citizens are not our enemy. Greed is our enemy. Abusive power is our enemy. Injustice is our enemy. Unfettered corporate influence is our enemy.
And those are the things that have been attacking our democracy. Many of the people who so sanctimoniously sang democracy’s praises today, standing on the Capitol steps with those stupid fake candles in their hands, are for all practical purposes but handmaidens to democracy’s enemies. No legislator who takes money from Big Pharma or Insurance companies; gun manufacturers, Big Chem or Big Ag; Big Oil or the MIC has any right to call themselves a defender of our democracy. Not today, and not any day. Nor does it matter any more that they don’t see that. We do.
Today should have been commemorated with more than show tunes, though God knows the image is perfect. Performance…mere performance. It should have been commemorated with the expansion of medicare, the cancellation of the college loan debt, raising the minimum wage, or creating free college for all. It should have been commemorated by acts that addressed the despair of millions of Americans. It should have been commemorated by something – something, anything at all – which proves that anyone who works in that building has even a clue why things are so bad.
The only way to fortify our democracy is to use it once again for the purpose for which it exists: to serve the people, not just the elite; the many, not just the few; and those who need it most, not just those who pull the strings of government to line their pockets at the expense of others. As long as attacks are coming from the inside, we’ll always be at risk of more attacks from the outside. As long as there’s so much pathology inside the building, our democracy will not be safe.
