We are all going to die. What is it worth then? Lord, show me the way…

It’s May 7th 2022 5:49 am in Anderson, Indiana in the parking lot of the public library.

For 40 years and more I was in the desert of me. ME. Me me my my. Slowly slowly, deliberately grace Grace pulled me up out of it. By degrees and degrees this thing called Eye, it came up out of a veritable swamp of self. I couldn’t understand my whole life, nor why this is happening. Grace had led now. Struggling and desperate to understand, isolated and tortured in the mind so much, I kept trying to find solace. I kept trying to see which way to go, but it was a desolate ocean of meaninglessness.

Then through a circumstance, which literally means something that lurks at the periphery, I heard someone speaking about Gurudjieff, how he was called Miesseur Bonbon, because he always gave children candy. And a woman, not knowing who he had been, wrote about him years later, that he had fed her family during the war when they had nothing to eat. That he daily had cooked food for people and brought it to them. And I awakened, because I had fallen asleep during the video and I thought this is what we all must do. We must all get together and do this. Feed people, house them and give them meaningful things to do.

There is no other meaning in life than this now. But to show people how to live for each other, to be responsible for each other. I always felt that my life had a meaning. I knew it, but then I would forget for a time again. And everywhere I went I found that it’s not possible, nothing is possible with each person alone, taking care of only himself. It made no sense.

Indeed nothing made sense, nothing at all made sense. Without this one fact, that we are here only to HELP each other, to feed each other, to look out for each other. I don’t know why it becomes so hard to understand. Because everyone has become afraid perhaps.

And I couldn’t understand that we are all going to die, and that at the end you want to look back and say that, I did this for you. It wasn’t for me. And that it was a choice. In my life I have seen rich and poor and I have seen people who are prisoners, either prisoners and slaves of misery and poverty or prisoners and slaves of greed and selfishness. And regardless of which side, both die alone. Then, in the end, is it not it true, even if you believe in absolutely no god, at the end would it not be better to say, I spent my life making others happy by practicing compassion? If I spend my days practicing compassion, will I die alone? And even if I do, won’t I have love in my heart when I go?

So many years ago I heard the parable of those with long arms. We all have long and strong arms. The difference between heaven and hell is that some feed each other and some feed only themselves. The arms are too long. Especially now they are too long. They won’t reach to the mouth. So we feed another and have faith that we so also be fed. It’s not the airplane oxygen mask scenario in the plane that First Me then You. No. It’s so simple.