GreenMan Substack Podcast

There’s a Youtuber I follow who posts shorts about attachment styles and relationships. He’s great. Recently, he shared a letter he wrote to the women he loved but could not have. It was beautiful and sweet. He cried while reading it. I was shocked at the depth of feeling and his unabashed openness.It got me thinking about love and need. Social media portrays a curated journey through everyone’s personal brand. Our vacation photos. Our best moments, edited to perfection. Conversely, our needs look weak. Need equals needy. Suspect. Demanding, incomplete, immature. Definitely not sovereign. Social media makes us look like invulnerable movie stars. But we’re not, or at least we shouldn’t be.We don’t want to become too dependent on our lovers, but having needs doesn’t make us needy. It makes us normal. Needs make us human. Deeper still, when we love someone, need is but a facet of that love. I thought back to someone I loved and needed. I wonder if she saw my love as mere need. As a demand. As pressure. And from her perspective, it may have felt like obligation.But what an incomplete picture of my love and experience. A mere fragment of the splendor, of the all-too-temporary joining of our lives.I saw her. I delighted in her. I loved her so much. I was all-in. I remember the sweet innocence of her eyes. Adorable pictures from different ages. Her strength and resolve. Her divine beauty and sublime humor. Her patient mothering skills. She was resplendent and I cherished her. Yet my deep affection for her is not the whole of the correction, of the reclamation. She and her child awoke my soul in a real sense. I had loved before, but suddenly there were two people who mattered more to me than anyone else. I would have done anything for them—to care for them, to shepherd them, to protect them. And there was nothing more I wanted to do than to be around them, to share my life.I still had my personal mission, my purpose outside of them—my interests, friends, art, and work. But they were the why behind everything. I didn’t consciously see this at the time. Some of it came clearer in their absence. Not just because they had awoken my soul, but because I felt such an affinity for both of them. They were just home. All of my best latent characteristics were unearthed, unfrozen and coming online. I truly didn’t know I possessed husband/father energy. Patience and presence. The desire to serve and sacrifice. And yet, in losing them, I felt like those superlatives were seen as liabilities. Patience and loyalty were seen as self-abandonment. But I didn’t even have a name for such experiences. I just knew I would move mountains for love.I felt deep pain because I chose to be vulnerable and I lost in love. And yet the sense that the culture pathologized the very human drives that came online added insult and confusion. And that’s why I call it reclamation. Because I unwittingly internalized these messages. As I challenge and release these false beliefs, I feel like I reclaim my peace and sense of self.What dark magic is afoot when virtue is mistaken for vice? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I watched Masters of the Universe the other night. It was super fun and funny. It could have benefitted from a bigger budget, but the laughs were almost constant and the story was redeeming. It was basically a mashup of a lot of Marvel and other superhero mythology, but I didn’t mind.I enjoyed how the movie explored manhood through the lens of a boy-Prince who is a reluctant messiah who eventually steps into power and mastery.As the movie ended and some of the mythic messages were downloading into my neural net, a couple of lines emerged that were not from the movie in question.“It’s our way. It’s the Klingon Way.”“I know. But it’s not my way.”I always enjoyed Star Trek: The Next Generation for the deep philosophical explorations that were hidden beneath the thin veneer of space exploration. Few characters were more compelling than Worf, a Klingon raised by human parents.Klingons were war-like and proud, fierce and quick to anger. Theirs was a noble warrior archetype, but their stoicism could drift into a dogmatism too hung up on tradition to reconsider old precedents.One such moment occurred in the episode, Redemption II. Worf’s family name had been dishonored because of a lie about his father, Mogh. Worf and his brother, Kurn, had worked diligently, investigating the incident in question to find the truth—a secret that could undermine the very legitimacy of the Klingon Empire.When the truth came out, Worf’s family name was cleared and the son of the real villain, now deceased, was presented to Worf for execution, in keeping with Klingon tradition.Worf was a proud Klingon. He practiced the ceremonies, knew the history and was competent in battle. And yet he had grown up with human parents and later joined Starfleet instead of serving the Klingon Empire. He had chosen his own way, much to the chagrin of his brother and other Klingons.When presented with the opportunity to take the life of a young man, an innocent, he demurred. Even though it was the Klingon way, he could not follow through. Not because the act was unsanctioned—but because the act was morally wrong, despite its legality. He knew that killing this young man would have been barbaric and would have solved nothing.Through the episodes, Worf was revealed to us as a proud Klingon: stoic, stern and uncompromising. And yet this caricature, the warrior stereotype, was the entry-point into the person behind the archetypal mask.In the moment where Worf dropped the knife and proclaimed, “I know. But it is not my way,” we see the gap between the map and the territory. The soldier and the orders he cannot in good conscience carry out. Because any tradition or law that would have one kill an innocent young man for the crimes of his family is bankrupt.His choice caused consternation among his brother and the other Klingons. Yet it was his choice to make. He knew the rules. He revered the culture. He was the ultimate emblem of Klingon virtue. And yet, his moral code superseded even his reverence for his people’s history and ways.That is individuation. Courage. Discernment. True power.Worf was perfectly capable of carrying out the order. But the true mark of a human, just like a Klingon, is the exercise of restraint.One who looks solely to tradition and archetypal messaging becomes a stereotype, a caricature. A warrior was but a facet of Worf’s identity.He looked inside for what honor demanded. He was a proud Klingon and yet, drew his wisdom from multiple sources--from humanity and Starfleet and his Captain, whom he respected greatly.Worf represented the collision of two different cultures, with vastly different worldviews and ethical standards. He was of the Klingons, but also an individual, and a Starfleet officer. As a hybrid character, he brought much-needed perspective to situations and traditions in need of revision.Suddenly, mercy had entered the Klingon imagination, sending ripples throughout the empire. His choice offered a new tradition, a new perspective, and new possibilities. One obvious result of his choice was that a young Toral survived. He was not forced to die for the sins of another—sins he did not commit. He was free from the bondage of his family’s shame, an unfair burden—guilt by association. Worf had just received this gift and immediately bestowed it on another. A man who now held his own fate and his life’s trajectory. He was not automatically destined to be good, but to have agency. Perhaps merciful actions such as this spread like a contagion of right action. A virtuous spiral.This episode demonstrates the appeal to tradition fallacy: the idea that because something is ancient, long-standing, or customary, it must be legitimate and must continue. Tradition can convince us that dissent against such customs is itself an ethical violation.Star Trek, in its brilliance, forced us, the viewer, to question our dogmas, our sureness. What does it mean to be, in this case, a man, a warrior, an adherent, a soldier, an animal, and an individual? Are we more than our conditioning? Are we static or dynamic? What makes our rules legitimate?For if we merely adhere to our scriptures, then we are little more than docile adherents, supplicants. If we have agency, we challenge what is wrong, what is unfair and what can no longer be accepted. We revise the stale and archaic tome into a living document. A tradition that breathes and sheds its skin.Any movement or system, any founding document that will not stand before an ethical challenge is moribund. Any system that will stand and thrive and provide for its adherents will welcome correction, as it is for the good of the people it serves.Blind obedience to laws, orders, scriptures and traditions is not virtuous unless and until those rules are compared against universal ethics. Any system that prevents such a challenge is hollow.Discernment is knowing when the hour of reckoning is upon us. These moments, these choices, contain inherent risk.Yet, courage demands that we take a stand or we may find ourselves complicit in the ethical lapses of systems that need our correction.When we refuse to face these risks, we elevate obedience above conscience and silence the inner voice, surrendering the judgment that makes moral action possible. This is a public episode. 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Lies are a thorny subject. On one hand we have innocent forms of deception: white lies, sweet little lies, and we can even lie to ourselves. But don’t let these quaint catch-phrases fool you; when it comes to intentional deception, the implications are staggering. There are layers of meaning, ethical questions, and gradations to consider.Lies can define our character. Someone can be a pathological liar. Studies show we lie more often than we think. Yet we see many everyday lies as harmless. Some clearly are. Humoring someone who is unsure of whether to wear an outfit or start an artistic endeavor is innocent. It comes down to a question of intent and results. Yet, on the world stage and in our personal lives, big lies can create similar problems because lies are often a vehicle of power.Deception is a tool of power.Lies are load-bearing.Lies and deception are tools of control.Propaganda is a form of political deception. It serves as the intellectual bedrock of a political system that usurps and hoards power. Demagogues amass power by confusing others with distortions and half-truths. Some lies are obvious and thus spoken to demonstrate power.Images of Mussolini and Hitler come to mind. A leader so brazen, so willing to lie, pushes key buttons in people waiting for that strongman to come along and lead us back to glory. We’ve seen these stories play out in predictably catastrophic ways.Such characters lie, not just to peacock, but to rationalize harm. The January 6th attack was predicated on an obvious lie—that President Biden stole the 2020 election. He very obviously did not.Remember Trump’s earlier lie—that President Obama was a Muslim and not born in the US. Or further back, that the Exonerated Five were guilty until proven innocent. Powerful lies that damage real people’s lives.Lies serve as scaffolding for movements and usurpations of power. “They’re eating the dogs!” “They’re not sending their best!” Insidious lies that fester and divide.The election lie was used to justify harm. Not just physical violence and property damage, but political violence—the kind that very easily could have ended our grand experiment in self-government on that day.Propaganda about Jews in the decades leading up to WW2 led to genocide--a grisly example of what scapegoating can do. Now new lies attempt to minimize the 6 million deaths that came as a result of the original lies.Lies, in this regard, are functional--part of a plan and a process.On a personal level, lies can be hard to catch and harder to understand. Some have innocent intentions and create little blowback. Humoring a lover or a friend. But deceptive people’s lies indicate something. Some need. Something to hide. A wound to protect. An intent to manipulate.They can also serve to obfuscate and mislead. To hide an affair, a checkered past, or cruel intentions. They can serve to misdirect--to make a lover or a friend blame themselves when acting in good faith. They can cause a person to doubt their ability to make sense of their experiences. We call this gaslighting. These lies are powerful and amount to psychological abuse.Your confusion gives the liar power, cover, space, advantage. It protects them from consequences: vulnerability, accountability, introspection, the need to grow.In politics, lies can prepare the populace for domination.In relationships, they can bring confusion that sets the stage for: abuse, neglect, affairs and loss of self. Lies can make someone feel used, broken, at fault, not enough, too much, too needy.The lies replace reality. On a national level, social cohesion craters, creating seismic impacts. Division, violence, tribalism, and loss of liberty to totalitarian regimes.The individual, inhabiting both settings, feels lost, unable to trust his/her senses--leading to further isolation. This compounds the sense of estrangement which further potentiates the nefarious activities of the political powers who thrive on division and offer a person safe harbor in their cult of personality. Isolated people are more vulnerable to individual perpetrators as well.I wonder if similar characters are behind the lies in both spheres. We love diagnosing everyone, but, you don’t have to have a personality disorder to have manipulative tricks up your sleeve. Many who deceive have modeled these behaviors from parents, siblings, friends, movies or books. Some abuse can hamper neurological development, creating empathy gaps. Some people simply lack empathy. This can free a person to do as they please.Those of us with more capacity to feel and care are at an obvious disadvantage. Lies can have a coarsening effect, even on those with a strong moral code. Exhausted, we may come to believe, ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’. We could choose to get our just desserts by easing our ethical standards, crossing our lines in the sand. Monkey see, monkey do.I call this the contagion of deception. It’s like a tractor beam, and it is how civilizations fall. The Roman Republic became the Roman Empire and was ruled by cruel men. People abandon ethics and each other when truth no longer matters. When shared reality crumbles.And yet, that’s just one problem. People don’t merely sink to new depths of depravity. Cynicism doesn’t merely create more cynicism.The contagion of deception is, more directly, the forced transference of shame, of confusion, of blame, onto the victim.The unwitting recipient must now manage the other’s accrued psychic debt, the pain, the unprocessed shame, in the form of an imposed nervous system dysregulation. Such lies serve as a vehicle to dump trauma onto the unsuspecting, who must then deal with these staggering after-effects. They may feel cursed to bear this burden while trying not to follow suit--to resist unleashing this radioactivity onto another, as was done unto them.Civilization is choosing not to replicate the wound in another. Not to unburden oneself at someone else’s expense.Choosing to hold oneself accountable, even when others have not.Because truth and shared reality are the hallmarks of community. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I loved the movie, Cloud Atlas. Everyone should watch it for the sheer enjoyment and the psychological/philosophical/spiritual messages it presents in narrative form. There are so many crystallizing moments. The scenes get better and better as the movie progresses and the meaning presents itself more clearly.This film posits that we ascend or descend based on the virtue of the choices we make. Characters rise and fall via karmic reincarnation.The ethical focus is on countervailing ethical options. Courageous choices lift a person into a higher station in their next life. Fear and coercion lower characters to sub-human entities who spread misery.Finally the writers demonstrate that seemingly futile gestures of faith, mercy, courage and authenticity may not always save the person in this life, but that these noble acts serve as motivation and inspiration to souls far in the future. No good deed goes un-noticed.One could spend pages analyzing so many scenes and moments and their implications. But perhaps my favorite is the movie’s climax. Tom Hanks’ character, Zachry, is a coward. His village is being attacked by brutes and instead of fighting valiantly, he hides. He is no mere coward, however. He is oppressed by the devil spirit, Old Georgie, played masterfully by Hugo Weaving.In the film, we can’t tell if Old Georgie is a true devil, a hallucination or a sub-character in Zacchry’s psyche. Either way, he masterfully hobbles and confuses the weak character, whispering fear and despair. Sternly predicting the worst outcomes and overwhelming the innocent and pliable Zacchry in his colloquial brogue.This moment really zapped me because it was well written, very intense and climactic in terms of cinematography. More so, the plot device served as the perfect metaphor for what our minds do to us to keep us ‘safe.’ This safety usually amounts to a lot of regret, when the spell of fear eventually wears off. We may wonder why we didn’t go for someone or something we wanted. When we didn’t believe in ourselves and we wondered how or why.Old Georgie is a great externalization of the inner critic and other named and unnamed fear voices that can infect us and paralyze our lives.I can recall countless moments where I’ve given in to fear because I thought the voice of fear was me or the voice of reason. This stance is often our default setting.Because Old Georgie co-opts real insights and insinuates himself via worst-case-scenarios: to try and protect us but always from a limited, clutching, fear-based worldview. Spoiler alert: Zachry eventually stands up to Old Georgie and finds his courage and saves the day. And he gets the girl and starts a family and tells the story to his grandkids around the fire, now an elderly man of wisdom.We can and must wake up to our Old Georgie scenes, our opportunities to grow, to take our leaps of faith, regardless of the short-term outcomes.There is a proclamation and a leap I’ve been meaning to take. One that scares me. It’s an inner leap, not a quit your job and move across the country type. It’s one I’ve written about and I know it’s right, but Old Georgie always finds a way of scaring me into a stuckness on this issue. He keeps telling me I’ll disappear if I let go of this one dream, this one thing that I don’t really have control over anyway. Such is the sophistication of these twisted survival mechanisms. These tools that have become inversions of their intended purpose.Seek out your Old Georgie moments, situations and moments of truth. Recognize that the voice is not you. Thinking of Old Georgie as a stand-in for your fear or inner critic is a powerful move. Waking up in those moments is the way we make our leaps of faith. They often feel counter-intuitive. That’s because we are so used to that inner critic scaring us into inaction. What happens when we stop obeying? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I love discovering hidden songs from favorite artists and eras. I recall a friend mentioning Astral Weeks from Van Morrison when I was 20. When I heard it years later, I was rapt. Everything stopped.The lyrics were visual, kinetic, and emergent--a stream of consciousness that flowed between description and exposition. I was transported to ‘another place and another time.’ The instrumentation was layered and played spontaneously. Joy permeated the poesy. The songs, exuberant, arrived in simple garb.After that seminal 1968 album, I wondered if other artists felt liberated to approach their music with similar abandon and subversion.I recently discovered the solemn Winter, by the Rolling Stones. I thought it a stylistic homage to Astral Weeks and yet distinct–a stirring meditation that made me pause. It told me something about love that I had missed, which is why we listen.Then I listened again and again—like I do—on repeat–decoding and decanting. Letting this unearthed appellation breathe. Sitting with the break in the internal dialogue that it caused. Beckoning its strings to shower their electricity onto my waiting ears. Riding the locomotion of the drums as they crashed the emotional waves and stirred the momentum of thawing ingredients.A transmission from the Gods. A gleaming artifact unearthed. An artist’s expressionist rendering of a moment and a mood so distinct, so fascinatingly mundane. We are invited into his and her private wavelength, their sacred love-bubble. Yet such offerings stand as a universal decree about what it means to suffer life’s vagaries while alive and human and ensouled.These offerings grant us secret permission to feel and yearn. To chase the essence of a moment–to bridge the distance between two beleaguered spirits. Like any real love song, Winter is a public baring of the soul. An unconditional surrender. Where no recourse is sought or revealed. When no salve soothes the ache, art is the only afforded option. They and we venture to distill a fading sunset and its synchronistic starlings as they flutter and vanish. As our perfect moments fade.The song couches its meaning in elemental allusions–seasons and winds–and the imagery they inspire. This imparts a cold weariness, but the telling feels warm and open as I listen. He speaks his laments and yet counters with a hope that change and renewal will arrive with Spring. ‘When the light of love will be burning bright.’I love how the narrator speaks of events and locations that don’t reveal much to the listener. Maybe it’s not for us to know what those places mean. California and Stone Canyon. We are left to imagine what secret meaning is encoded. Perhaps the song is saying that the details and locations are superfluous. Because the details don’t last. They’re the map, not the territory. Perhaps it’s enough for us to just witness his love letter.And to remember the odes we’ve sent--and the missives not fired.To cherish our memories as he savors his. To honor our connections, strained though they may be. The souls we know and knew. The people and places and faces we remember--that showed us who we are. Those that awoke us from slumber. The ones that stir us still.And yet, part of me knew there was something deeper at play with Winter. This song was about exile. Winter was a gentle metaphor for his banishment. I knew it, yet I didn’t know why. There was nothing overt in the song that told me, until I searched a little deeper. The narrator says “I’ve been burning my bell, book and candle. And the restoration plays have all gone round.” At first I wanted to leave these details out of the essay because the song affected me so much without their addition. But ‘bell, book and candle’ describes an old Catholic rite of expulsion that has come to mean estrangement or a curse. So when he says he’s been ‘burning’ his ‘bell, book and candle,’ he was removing his curse. This song is his incantation. The recitation of verses, the repetition, the circularity. The swirling intensity of the strings. His counter-spell, cast at the four winds. His penance. Samson at the grinding wheel.The ‘restoration plays’ refer to 17th century plays in Europe that were bawdy and grandiose. Perhaps he had had affairs and distractions and busyness, but that these enterprises had worn thin.For the final incantation, he speaks directly to his lover as the song comes to a crescendo before closing.‘Sometimes I think about you, baby’‘Sometimes I cry about you’‘Sometimes I wanna wrap my coat around you’‘Sometimes I wanna keep you warm’This is the heart of the song and the song of his heart.As the strings rise and swellNo request for forgiveness No quibbling about the terms of his banishmentNo bid for reassurance or even connectionThinking only of his belovedWanting only to keep her warmTo humbly protect, to shelterA bulwark from the elementsA shepherd, a beacon, a lighthouseBearing warm love with nowhere to goA familial and timeless loveBonded and graciousNot sullied by the coldBut fortified and burnishedHis deepest love revealedAs all else falls away This is a public episode. 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As I continue to write, I’ve noticed that the direct act of writing takes a backseat most of the time to a host of other related tasks: noticing, pondering, building the conceptual scaffolding of an essay, sensing that a concept I’m working on has tangents that could all be little essays themselves. Put together they could be a book. Mapping feels more accurate at times. Instead of writing something that exists inside of me, I experience it more like discovering a phenomenon. Mapping that can take days or weeks of intermittent study and discussions.A big part of my style of writing is noticing things. Dismantling movies and songs, messages, social movements, and propaganda. Scrutinizing. Not always judgmentally or critically either. Getting under the surface of a song, a movie or an idea seems to be the main thrust. From there one can use it as a way to see the culture, the nation, the individual. All roads lead to Rome.Lately, words and their manifold meanings interest me. I sense, more specifically, how certain words get co-opted by: religions, movements, institutions, political parties, musical genres etc. It’s not necessarily good or bad, but it’s constant, this drift in meaning.We must be aware of the ways in which our words are used. Often we get into debates because two people mean two different things when discussing something. Someone gets offended by the connotation they assume the person meant.Words are so often insufficient. The map is not the territory. We struggle to describe what we see, feel, experience and truly mean. Futile attempts to connect through words can be maddening and destructive.As I’m pre-writing for a half dozen essays, I see how important words have been co-opted by the aforementioned institutions. I don’t mean to pick on religion, but some of the most obvious and clear cases, for me, come from a very Chrisitanized view of specific words. Most of these words are virtues, like faith.In Christianity, faith means to believe without proof. To believe in one’s salvation. To believe that Jesus died for your sins. Since we are a nation with such a large population of Christians, we have loosely adopted many of the suppositions, traditions and mindsets of our dominant religion--for better or worse.And yet, a non-religious view of faith is still applicable and useful as a counter point. That faith is a different animal, though related. We can have trust in others, in their innate goodness. We can have a good-faith discussion. In this case, faith is honoring the rules of intellectual honesty.In an upcoming movie review, I noticed how a character used faith that his actions would be worthwhile because people matter. In that realization, I noticed how I had previously and unconsciously taken on the religious meaning of the word—the specific promises and theology of Christianity.When I examined that idea, I noticed that this belief system creates an external locus of control. Have faith that God will do this act or that God has done that act which saves you. This amounts to faith in something or someone external. An atheist scholar may go on to argue that said religion instills learned helplessness by causing its adherents to seek outside of themselves for said salvation.But in the movie, the character acted in a way that proved he had faith in humanity, in the value of life. Not because of a god, but because he viewed life as sacred. As a result, he acted instead of waiting for God to do so. He decided life was sacred.Sacredness is another word whose meaning can be blended. Is someone or something special because they are anointed by god? Or is sacredness a concept that we need to reconsider. Perhaps everything is sacred. Perhaps what’s missing from our culture, our nation and our planet, is a sense of universal sacredness.Not because a scripture tells us so. But because we decide that it is so. Not this holy object or this ancient site. Not this chosen people. But everyone and everything. We can take back sacredness from its narrow usage just like we can with faith. Not because those usages are wrong, but because they are not universal.Perhaps we unwittingly end up using our religions and our words and our laws to maintain classes of people. Citizens and illegals. Jews and Gentiles. Chosen ones and Philistines. Sacred land and brown sites. We pick and choose who and what is sacred by fiat or by doctrine. Even our religions are just for those who believe, who have faith. Others are not saved.Even our sacred words are used to divide and thus conquer.How does this happen? I don’t have the foggiest notion.But I know there’s a name for it.The mind virus—wetiko. The Spell. It settles upon our nation as we speak. Infiltrating our every thought. It divides. It feeds. It poisons us against one another. It is insatiable greed crossed with fear. It hates. It sees only enemies. It steals our words and inverts our nation’s principles and our world’s well-meaning religions.I don’t know how to defeat it, but I think continually naming it is a start. We may never defeat the mind virus itself, but we might as well marshal our forces to defeat its avatar. That avatar has the keys to the soon-to-be kingdom on this 250th anniversary of the independence of our nation.We must look around and see only sacredness. It is the antidote to the cynicism of abject greed and deception.But we also must defeat those forces that would usurp and chain us all to a future of totalitarianism. That threat is all too real. They are trying to create a world where nothing is sacred. All is raw material for creating more wealth for the few—grist for the mill.Everyone is a means to that end.Look in your hearts. Look to our institutions. But look at our words and see how even they can be used to subtly reinforce caste systems and dividing lines. We are balanced on a knife’s edge. Every choice matters.Break the spell of wetiko by seeing everyone as not just a means to your ends, but an end in and of themselves. They are theirs just as you are yours.This is the core of what it means to be civilized. To choose not to trespass, even when no one is watching. Even when you have been harmed. Even when you could easily rationalize it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I grew up with Madonna songs and videos on the radio and MTV. She was and is larger than life: a world-famous pop star, sex symbol--strong, beautiful, and overflowing with taboo. I knew the songs but I was never a fan who owned her music. I recognized her talent and daring. She challenged us as a culture to accept and respect strong women on their terms.She sings with a sweet, well-trained voice. Her musical career has spanned 5 decades. With dozens of hits, not all of her songs are deep and meaningful, but she’s a good songwriter. Live to Tell is haunting. A handful of others stick out in my head. She deserves her acclaim.I would hear snippets of Take A Bow in a store when walking by, but never knew what I was hearing—just echoes of that memorable and catchy chorus. I sensed sweetness—something bare and dreamy, with a touch of melancholy.Then I listened to the song in earnest and found it wondrous, sublime and complex. This offering was deeper than the typical Madonna fare--less performative and extroverted. Her writing was subtle: using the metaphor of a stage and performance to gently tell her story of heartbreak.The title implies artifice on the part of her lover, yet she delivers no invective. She doesn’t scorn his limitations. She merely shares a sweet and sorrowful melody. Her heart stays open. Her disappointment does not stain her love, her truth.She merely asks, ‘you took my love for granted, why, oh why?’The show is over, say goodbye.In her unabashed vulnerability, she embodies the fool archetype. The innocence, the willingness, and the risk.So many of her songs speak from a strong individualistic perspective, from feminism and empowerment. But this offering reveals the pain of losing, of the other getting the best of us. In doing so, she reveals her soft underbelly.If Madonna was singing to women across the world that they can be strong and empowered, maybe she’s saying that there is power in vulnerability.That the price of living a full life is performing our high wire act without a net.That strong people sometimes lose in love.And that no one is beyond confusion. No one is infallible.To constantly suspect others and defend against the vagaries of loss means to forego the rewards that love offers us.Perhaps our internal terrain is revealed in the wreckage of a connection that meant so much to us. We can take heart that even when we suffer tremendous loss, we don’t have one default setting. We don’t flatten the experience into seeing red, blaming supposed enemies. Static B-movie plot lines—villains and damsels in distress. We just feel bewilderment and a soft ache for those who couldn’t sustain the exposure of union.‘I’ve always been in love with you’ is the heart’s proclamation--innocent and bold. It yearns but does not beg. Her love is a verdant and timeless river. It does not succumb and collapse into bitterness. Her love abides. It stands impervious to the choices of the other.As I explore this song’s meaning and contours, I wonder if Madonna is expressing something more nuanced than mere unrequited love. Perhaps the love was just as real for the other person, but they chose to turn it off, to move on anyway. The show is over. But perhaps she discovered that she could not, that her love wasn’t mutable, fungible. Maybe what she means by ‘I’ve always been in love with you’ is that she discovered this love, this precious and living artifact in a deep cavern in her heart, waiting there since time immemorial to be discovered. Perhaps these treasures don’t expire. Maybe they don’t die. They just are. They radiate from our depths and from a timeless place. When someone can or will no longer meet us in that place, the artifact—the love, remains. It doesn’t obey the other lover’s exit.The heartbreak is not only that the lover may have been acting. It is that he can apparently step out of the role, leave the stage, and call the whole thing finished. She cannot. For her, the love is not a scene with a beginning and an end. It is something discovered and habituated to.Love doesn’t always wither when someone withdraws. It can fill so much heart-space that we can wonder how to move forward. Perhaps instead of trying to put out the flame or turn down the intensity, we might just grow around it. Get bigger. Build a bridge. Increase our capacity to hold love.No need to shame ourselves or accept impatient cultural messages. Instead we can recognize that this person showed us just how much love we can contain and channel. We may struggle to bear its intensity. We may continue to speak its lines, even after the curtain falls, the lights go down and the set is broken down. Because for us, the play was real. The stage that housed it was temporary. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I was surprised at a recent epiphany. I had to double-take when the word came to my mind because mercy usually denotes a situation where force and aggression were on the menu. But it rang true in a deep place, despite the apparent mismatch with the situation I was considering. Yet I didn’t know what to say about it without my words sounding forced and trite. So I left it alone for days. I was in the middle of watching the original Star Wars trilogy. They’re great movies and still, they’re super campy. There’s so much to say about them, but I wasn’t so much watching them as a film critic but letting myself get lost in the story after a long absence. Somehow I couldn’t help but enjoy the craft and make some observations.A New Hope was a slow and methodical exercise in world-building. With fun, memorable characters, we felt the water warm as Lucas gradually wove mystery and intrigue into the beginnings of a hero’s journey with real stakes. The sequel, The Empire Strikes Back was just so bleak--such a dark and effective movie. By the end, our heroes were reeling and wounded--splintered and near defeat. All seemed lost. Yet that’s where character development happens. They and we are at once galvanized in the forge of loss and doubt. These static characters become dynamic before our eyes. Damsels show ingenuity. Lunks soften. Boys become...well, larger boys, but with really cool gizmos and improved parlor tricks. Cowardly droids sometimes even save the day. There’s definitely some Wizard of Oz factor in Star Wars.And just like that journey down the yellow brick road, we grow with our stand-ins as they mirror our foibles and strengths back to us in technicolor. These movies are about courage and self-discovery, daring-do and grit.In turning those very tables we see how luck and commitment and belief conspire to level the odds against seemingly insurmountable forces. At the end of Return of the Jedi, the archetypal good vs evil face-off reaches its zenith with rich complexity.I felt riveted once again as I saw the depth and nuance of this interaction. The Emperor, the epitome of evil and avatar for the dark side, had seduced Darth Vader and now was trying to ensnare his son, Luke. (spoiler alert!)This changed the dynamic, because Luke kept appealing to his father’s humanity. Everyone kept telling him that his father was gone, that the machine and the dark side of the force had long since dispatched him. But Luke believed differently.As a result of his inner knowing, Luke had abandoned the idea of defeating Darth Vader and had come instead on a rescue mission. A mission of mercy. By throwing down his weapon, he opened himself to attack by the Emperor. This allowed the humanity within his father to overcome the programming, the hatred and the false identity he had worn for years. His love for his son caused him to risk his life and destroy his teacher, his false spiritual father--to reclaim his humanity and to change his destiny.Luke’s belief, his mercy and his steadfastness made him invulnerable to the urgings of the dark side. And this allowed his father’s inherent mercy to overpower his dominant false self. Love finds a way.Maybe there’s more to mercy than I thought. Perhaps sometimes mercy means sensing the humanity hidden deep within another, and letting that impulse dictate the agenda. Maybe mercy is just another face of love. And if I love them, then I’ll do whatever serves them. I’ll fight for them. Not for me. Not to win, not to defeat, but to preserve and honor them. To set them free. To believe in them. To see them, to see past their armor and their programming. To completely relinquish agendas that control and steer and self-seek.I thought mercy meant not killing a feeble enemy or not punishing the guilty. But I see it now as a form of surrender. A means by which the ego’s gambit is relinquished and the higher self can reassert: with the goals of healing, seeing past the mask and seeing the other with the eyes of love.Mercy says I’m not the judge and jury. I do not see all. It is not for me to be the (self-appointed) agent of your karma, but of mine.I see now that Luke didn’t ‘save’ his father in Return of the Jedi. Instead of salvation, Luke did ‘the work.’ He did the inner shadow work. He trained. He discovered himself. He gained proficiency, spiritually and otherwise. He was humbled and received tutelage from an elder. The hard work of individuation.His first attempt to help his friends and fight his enemy ended with him losing a hand and barely surviving the fight. He was defeated because he tried to fight force with force and not with power. Darth Vader was his father, but, until that moment, he was unaware of this fact. That’s when everything changed.Because he could then humanize this formerly faceless, anonymous villain, this caricature of evil. Vader was no longer a nemesis to be defeated, but a person with reasons and faults and a story. A person who could be redeemed. A dynamic character with agency, not a mere puppet, under the spell of the dark side.That’s when the careful craftsmanship of storytelling pays off. When static characters become dynamic. When we see ourselves in our fathers and our lovers and everyone in between. And we realize our fight is not with the spellbound, but with the spell.Luke threw down his weapon because the battle between good and evil was a trap. A false choice. Love doesn’t battle. Luke didn’t save his father. He showed him another way. He released his anger and fear as one impelled by love does not fight fire with fire. This freed him from the grip of the dark side. His father then merely modeled the same behavior. Because there was finally something worth living for and dying for—his son. The stakes offered him redemption.Luke’s non-violence showed Vader that he did care and he acted according to his true nature, not the second nature that had come to dominate him. Then fittingly, he removed the mask that both kept him alive and enslaved.Someone reminded me years ago that we can hold multiple ideas in mind without having to concretize our stance. In Return of the Jedi, Luke, considering his path and his previous battle with his father, was a perfect example. He saw/believed/hoped/manifested that his father was still in there, under all the armor, the indoctrination and the sunk cost. He wasn’t Darth Vader or Anakin Skywalker; he was both.Both things can be true. Both/and instead of either/or. Every situation does not reduce down to a 2-dimensional light switch, a black and white binary. One must recognize that sometimes, multiple choice is an option, even when given a true/false question.That’s what Luke did. He changed the rules. And he won.What’s different about our lives? Besides the lack of light sabers and adorable Ewoks? We don’t always have the opportunity to show off our insights and sublime understandings in a grand showdown between us, the valiant hero, and the forces of darkness. Yet, it doesn’t mean we don’t see.Sometimes there’s just no grand gesture, no riveting climactic scene. Nothing to do and no one to save. We may not even have anyone to articulate our truth to. It just sits there, seeing the truth, the reality of a situation. We can wish or hope for a moment when we can act upon it. But until then, we can rest in the knowledge that we know this truth--this secret. That we can see past the masks and window dressings. This sense can offer solace when we realize we’re only the director of our movie. And some greater director has plans that don’t fully correspond to our wishes.We commonly talk about love being a verb and it’s so apt, usually.Maybe sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s a realization that we’re right about something, but it’s just for us to know. And maybe that’s enough. Because to see the truth means not being fooled by the circumstances, but not needing the world to conform to your preferences. And perhaps that’s where Mercy can guide us again. The same Mercy that helped Luke humanize his father may help us see that it’s merciful to let others be. No fixing or saving. Just seeing and knowing.We don’t need an external triumph where we receive and offer redemption. Luke gets a great payoff. The characters save the day and live happily ever after. But life is not a movie. Those moments of high drama are the exception, not the rule. Yes! Seize them and act valiantly when life affords the chance. By all means, be the hero in your life. But we must learn what to do when we never get the chance to say our mic drop line. When the passion play can only take place internally. When our internal discovery of Mercy is the reward and the payoff. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I remember decades ago when Paul Simon’s Graceland album and the title song arrived on the radio and in our collective imagination. I was a middle school student, learning about Biblical allusions in novels like The Old Man and the Sea. So when I heard the title track, Graceland, I knew he was talking about heaven as much as Elvis’ sprawling mansion. The meaning was layered and I was privy because I had been lucky enough to be taught. I was made savvy by others who were learned in the subtleties of meaning as transmitted through art. I remember explaining this to someone less versed, someone who didn’t know about allusion. It just didn’t register for him. I was sad for the flattened perceptual experience he was living.A year or so ago, when in mourning, I was focusing on the song Graceland again. The line, ‘losing love is like a window in your heart’ gave me pause. I liked the simile, and yet it was the revelation and the commonality that Simon imparted through his rendering that was and is most operant. He was reaching for truth and we were along for the ride. ‘She comes back to tell me she’s gone. As if I didn’t know that. As if I didn’t know my own bed. As if I never noticed, the way she brushed her hair from her forehead.’We revel in his use of lyric and music, feelings and unvarnished scenes, to get to the real. To help us slip into ourselves and under our defenses. To embody our most tender inner being, to feel seen. We discover commonality there with the writer and all who choose to withstand and soften through life’s vagaries.And yet music and art don’t automatically shed light. We can watch a film that propagandizes and distorts. We may read misleading pseudo-history and come to wildly inaccurate conclusions. We too often believe false narratives about pivotal scenes in history and the actors who played upon the world stage. Through art and speech, sound and image, we can be taught or tricked, aroused or sickened, ginned up for war or mollified.Our capacity to perceive is fallible. See death cults and abusive relationships for context. We can reject the trustworthy and embrace the charlatan. We don’t know what we don’t know. So humbly seeking truth via education is a choice to accept our functional incapacity to learn, to perceive clearly without the intervention of not only experts in a subject but teachers—exemplars of discernment—those who dare us to think, to examine, to wrestle with truth. They challenge our assumptions and show us the stakes. We must be willing to see the chinks in our perceptual armor, the fizzures where deceptive arguments seep in to court our core wounds. How the algorithm cases the joint. It sizes us up and glamours our prideful egos, luring us to court deception, mapping where we harbor half-truths and false beliefs, where we entertain fallacies that are at once tantalizing and life-threatening. Extinction event catalysts in sheep’s clothing.So in the school of life, all art is not created equal. Some works free us and others serve us a 1-dimensional script for who we are and will be. Media can feed us generalized narratives about our identity that too many seemingly lap up and wear with pride. I see this most egregiously in radio country music. I have always found it mindless and deeply insulting. Easy tropes about tractors and trucks and other facile identity cues make me shudder. It feels like a Kincaid painting but with barbs—with consequences that would become all too clear as politics shifted and metastasized in the only nation I’ve called home.I sensed that country music was selling its listeners a soft propaganda—a ready-made script. A hokey caricature of patriotism, regionalism, masculinity, rural life vs city life, American-ness that you can slip into and skip all that useless introspection. No nuance, no search, no layers. Here it is. Plop. Eat your gruel. Whatever I see on the surface is what everything means. No inquiry, no risk and of course, no doubt. No time for nuance and no need to veer into the uncomfortable, the messy or the taboo. No stark encounter with self and shadow. No subtle urging to face our biases, to humanize those different than us. It seems innocuous, but it’s not.Radio country brainwashes and dumbs-down vast swathes of our population with results that have become all-too apparent in the last 10 years. My disappointment is not that there is such a Nashville machine that churns out fluff for profit—that makes mindless grist and calls it music. Capitalism is like that. I’m incensed that so many consume such tripe so willingly. They wear it like a badge of honor. Coupled with dogmatic religions that asks people to have faith in unseen saviors, too many have become the unwitting pawns of those who would usurp—the highwaymen who would gladly separate us from our sovereignty. These engineers of chaos, of the demise of our American Experiment. The stakes could not be higher.And yet all is not lost. Our capacity to course-correct may be our saving grace. Our willingness to see past the surface is needed now more than ever. Cynical times led by cynical politicians leads to cynical citizens. We are starting to resemble our counterparts in Russia and other non-free nations. They are wise to the propaganda. They vote and yet they know that this vote is a charade. They are initiated in public deception. We must become so and yet not lose our sense of people power.We do this by examining, by employing awareness, by seeking understanding. By measuring our capacity for discernment with humility. We must listen to our guts, but assess the conclusions we would jump to with scrutiny. The appreciation of art is part and parcel of the embodiment of discernment. Art presents us information in a fashion that deeply soothes and harshly confronts. It blurs lines and breaks rules as it contorts and swirls and toys with the permutations of meaning. It seeks to meld the ethereal with the mundane, the vulgate and the sacred. Art dissects and scrutinizes. It magnifies what it encounters. It passes judgment and redeems.Art demands and rewards presence: something that is often in short supply. Humility and beginner’s mind go a long way in our vigilance against misinfortion and disinformation. Let’s investigate the seemingly innocuous streams of entertainment that we digest, for they could be our custom-tailored and bespoke Trojan Horse. True art does not lull us to sleep. It does not typecast. It does not generalize. It beckons: awaken and experience your humanity and alchemize your suffering through rhythm and integrated chaos, not mere spectacle. Witness yourself through the mirror that art and nature provide. Come back to center. Metabolize the detritus. Venture out once more and see the world anew. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

A year ago I awoke with a melancholy song in my head and a knowing ache in my heart. Enter Springsteen’s Bobby Jean: his tender goodbye to a band-mate and dear friend. The song reminisced about their shared history over a sentimental soundtrack. Through this transmission I sensed that I had to reluctantly let go of someone I cherished–someone I was certain would be my forever person.Spirit ushered me captive into those bitter mornings via such songs to soothe and broach that unwelcome reality in my preferred language and medium–these artist’s homages to those they knew they must release but couldn’t bear to do so. In those early days, dawn would arrive with a jolt–a caustic reckoning with the stubborn truth my mind could not fathom and my soul would not accept. Bobby Jean, aka Steve Van Zandt, soon returned to the band, but our lovers often don’t. We find our way eventually, despite the loss, or because of it. Or maybe we don’t.Perhaps these songs aren’t mere entreaties to loves lost, but are woven to serve a deeper purpose. Lately, Billy Idol’s Sweet Sixteen haunts me. A lament to his girlfriend while on tour, this song’s title invoked the story of Coral Castle and its creator, Edward Leedskalnin. He moved to Florida and built this impossible stone monument to his love, his sweet sixteen, who would not marry him and who never came to see his otherworldly creation. Yet thousands of visitors grace his halls every year and honor his testament to love.Perhaps grand gestures like his are more than meets the eye. Maybe they’re not just for the love object. What if they are the hard labor of one’s soul excavation? Toiling in vain, these bittersweet monuments to those we couldn’t have—to unbridled love with nowhere to go. Channeled revelations, discharges of divine spark, harnessed with ghostly reverence. Pleading and shedding. Forswearing and exhausted relenting.The nihilist in us can discount these odes to passion as empty melodramatic charades cast against a cruel and soulless abyss. What apparent folly, what hapless futility. Yet, perhaps love finds a way around the stumbling blocks. Yes, Pattie Boyd didn’t come back to Eric Clapton and Stills chased Judy Collins to no avail. But these titanic homages stand regardless as each artist’s respective magnum opus. Layla and Suite: Judy Blue Eyes preside atop rock and roll’s pantheon of lost love offerings—the blinding zenith of both artist’s towering creative capacities. They aren’t mere masterworks to be viewed in some gallery, lauded for their technique and tidy brushstrokes.These open letters reached me. They engulfed and riveted me before I had tasted agony, before I had lost love, before my soul had been torn down. They lit up my circuits with an intensity and aliveness that forewarned and celebrated life’s impending tragedies and deep joys.With each acrid gulp of loss and longing, they met me with understanding and permission to mourn and plead. To implode, to grasp and clutch. To need. They met me with grace and honor. With rage and confusion that accompanied me in the devastation. With the sense that I might trudge through my sacred wreckage in the windswept footfalls of these weary troubadours. By metabolizing my pain like they had recontextualized theirs: through creating art. Because there were no better options.No wonder we revere our singers and writers and rock stars. They channel their pain into medicine for the listless listener. They lead by example. Risking everything to share their deepest secrets in hopes that they might be accepted, seen and loved for their flaws and frailties. In their smallness. This offers the listener permission to be small and sad and hurting. In return they humbly ask to be seen: naked before the world. They let us in.Neither the singer nor the listener is above the other. The artist is not a god on a pedestal. The fan is not a supplicant in the cheap seats. Both are humans in pain, reaching across the void for meaning and love. And they each oblige.Both are no longer alone. Love finds its way. Thus an inextricable bond is forged between these long distance lovers. The fans offer the artist the love he or she needs. The singer’s art heals the listener and makes them feel vested and linked to the pain of their heroes. We realize the venerated star is just like you and me: a simple human. We can heal through their words and sameness. But greater still, the artist shows the fan that true healing comes when we choose risk and metabolize our inner struggles. To consume art is fantastic. To create it, to reveal oneself, to offer this magic to the world: that is transcendence.In a time where there is so little cultural cohesion, the musician serves as bard—as shaman to a weary and rudderless populace. This is not mere entertainment or distraction. That’s the surface, the trance. A circuit is created to heal all parties, to link them with love and solace. Appreciation and adoration. Each reveals their wounds. Catching the other as they fall.Love Finds A Way.Epilogue:After 3 years of intense struggle and 1 year of the deepest mourning, life is starting to make sense again, thanks to friends, family, and the catharsis of receiving and creating art. I didn’t believe I’d ever feel alive again. The worst storm of my life has dissipated on all fronts. Never had I experienced such loss and despair–especially while so hamstrung by complex circumstances. Music and art purged what I could no longer carry. Such a transformation is uncanny to experience. It’s a process. Thankfully, I had my own vehicle—my writing, to help me process the losses and revelations. This helped me sidestep learned helplessness. If my writing does anything to you, let it be to coax you into your own introspection and creation. The world is waiting for your medicine, and so are you. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Like many, I knew the powerful, yet over-played Jefferson Airplane hits from the 60s like Somebody to Love, sung by Grace Slick. Yet, among others of the time, this band was deeply talented; their repertoire went far deeper than the singles. The Marty Balin offerings really struck me: his rich voice, his ballads tender and unabashed. The eclectic album Surrealistic Pillow epitomized the San Francisco sound and the Psychedelic era: a time and place of enchantment for me to this day.My favorite number, the ethereal Today, occupies rare air because it behaves in contrast to our expectations of standard love-song fare. In lieu of glowingly describing his lover, he regales us with his overflowing love, his burgeoning reverence.We know little of her, save the grandiose state she inspires. Not her perfume nor the shape of her eyes. Because he’s chosen instead to narrate the primeval force that subsumes him. His soul has become love’s vessel. Yet his is no parasitic possession, no mere infatuation—but an inner saturation, heralding the august arrival of the overman.The song is a procession. As verses advance and pervade, the harmonic intensity grows—rippling, stirring, and swelling at the transcendent unity of his love experience.As a listener and a lover, digesting such a song inspires similar states. Through these offerings, we acknowledge love’s embodiment. We relish the splendor of our love stores which the song captures and colors and translates. The towering adoration it reveals and reawakens: our majestic capacity to see and want and choose. We savor and project this affinity to the other, even in absentia.There exists no feeling more certain or more rare. When reciprocated, the joy is boundless. Yet even as I awoke in the absence of she who I adored, my love radiated so pure, so humble and so alive. It would conquer any obstacle. No circumstance could deny this love’s veracity.I stared back ensconced as she revealed with unguarded eyes and hushed sobs her innermost secrets. They kissed my heart and rang bells in my mind, these words lost on pages wet with tears. But the movie didn’t end that way.Yet when I laid down worry and fear and the deep sense of loss, this unyielding Love was all that remained of me. An open letter, a promise, a message in a bottle, bobbing and floating up to eternity. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I tried to write this post about a movie but it turns out the movie wasn’t that interesting—except for one key scene and the meaning it imparted. X-Men Wolverine: Origins is that of which I speak. Logan is one of my favorite characters, and not just for the talented actor or the cool healing powers, but for the deep mythic meaning.He’s a survivor, a warrior, but not a 1-dimensional cliche. He’s a reluctant messiah and an enigma who finds his own way to heroism when it counts. In the pivotal scene, the villain began describing his treacherous plan: how Logan’s girlfriend’s death was faked, and how she was in on the ruse. And how their relationship was never real.Logan didn’t flinch. He replied, ‘It Was Real for Me.’ I paused and let the moment sink in. I had seen the movie 5 times but I never caught that meaning, that scene, and that sureness. There’s exposition that would put you, the reader, there—the stakes, the nuance and the layers. But it doesn’t matter, really.What matters is that Logan honored this moment and this love any way. By doing so, he served as a stand-in for us, for what we can be when we look inward for guidance. He had all the tools to be a mercenary—cold, calculated, impenetrable and stoic. But he chose vulnerability and risked everything to love any way. In so doing, he inverts and controverts all the bogus themes of men (and people) protecting themselves instead of opening to life and seeing love as a zero-sum-game. A pitched battle between seemingly natural adversaries, vying for control. A chess match but with real stakes. A sad and unnecessary zeitgeist that decimates our culture and civilization.Logan didn’t need to win. He needed to be authentic. He knew that we gain nothing when we risk nothing. He knew that vulnerability was real strength, despite what the culture hawks on social media. Despite what everyone was doing around him. Despite the pain and disillusionment of betrayal and loss. He didn’t let these events make him cynical. When he loved, it was real, even if the other person couldn’t meet him there. Even if he looked like a fool. Because it was real for him. Because he was real. His love was real. Because vulnerability is not weakness, it’s the opposite. It’s strength. We risk pain and loss in the quest to meet the other in the hallowed space of intimacy.Our culture wants to sell us fantasies of control, stoicism and power moves. But Logan was at peace with being fooled. Because always operating from a position of advantage means never risking and never truly living. Only when we risk loss, failure, and blame, do we live.As manly as Logan looks and often acts in these movies, it’s his sensitivity in this scene that makes him Logan and not some caricature of manliness from some collective fever-dream. He has a heart and it can be broken. Otherwise, it’s not a heart, but a wall that isolates and stagnates our energy. Love is not a game. It’s not a competition. Love asks us to strip off our armor, to lay down our weapons. To soften and to view the other with the eyes of empathy. To humanize and forgive the limitations of our partners. Love is not at war. Even when we lose. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I read The Hobbit And the Lord of the Rings trilogy way back in High School. I still marvel at my capacity for such concentration in those far-gone days. It was quite an undertaking and a needed escape. Years later, I rejoiced at the movie’s capacity to craft the world the novel had transmitted to my mind’s eye all those years earlier. The story centers around a powerful and evil magic ring that had been recently rediscovered. Thus, a noble quest to destroy it ensued. By doing so, the heroes aimed to save the world from the resurrection of the movie’s villain, the evil god, Sauron. The ring’s discoverer, Gollum was a kindly character who became increasingly possessed by the One Ring—both for its powers when in its possession, and for its allure when he lost it. His was a descent into madness.As the group began its quest, individuals rightly asked, ‘what is he doing here?’ But the ring didn’t just whisper to Gollum. It pulled at each character’s motivating narratives, promising to empower their righteous goals. Such is the nature of the ego’s insinuations. The ring sought to bring down all the members of the quest by overpowering their ethics and supplying them with rationalizations meant to bridge the chasm between right and wrong.At the quest’s apex, as Gollum, Sam and Frodo were all that remained of the group, Sam would constantly lobby Frodo to cut Gollum out of the plan. Yet the viewer remembers when a wise wizard character hadpreviously warned that this wretch may yet have a purpose in the battle between good and evil.Similarly, we can wonder what use the universe has with our pernicious and destructive parts.As I look back on a recent personal quest, I see many parallels. I lurched through my quest—single-minded-of-purpose, much like Gollum. I sought the one thing that I believed would make me feel strong, seen, safe, and loved. A life that seemed to offer a deep meaning—like I was part of something bigger. I was trying to reclaim something external I believed I had lost. And yet, Sam and Frodo weren’t trying to find the ring, they were trying to destroy it. Notice the cross-purposes. This same tension can animate our personal lives in key moments that are rich with real stakes and rife with opportunities to fail.Our lower self seeks to control, to manage, to grasp and clutch. He works alone. He refuses or distorts spiritual energy and information. He only sees fear and lack, villains and competitors. Every game is zero sum: you win, I lose. He is clenched. And he often argues for short-term ethical lapses in order to promise greener pastures, to co-opt our valid long-term goals.Yet, much like Frodo and Sam, we have another facet, a higher self that is on a different quest: one borne of promise, expansion, acceptance—of love and trust. The higher self recognizes and eschews the pull of desire, the drugification of pleasure, and the deep and powerful grip that fear and loss can exert.One entity wants to destroy the ring and liberate the soul. The other seeks to possess the very poison that conspires to imprison the soul. Both characters think they’re right. And in a sense, they are. When it came time to release the ring into the molten lava, Frodo could not relinquish his grip. What he had once possessed now possessed him. The ring had finally overpowered him. And that’s when Gollum, possessed of his own craven desire, lurched at the ring and knocked it and himself into the flames, destroying the ring and saving the world, however inadvertently.As I look back on my quest, I sheepishly note my grasping and clutching. And yet, these attributes somehow served the higher self’s purpose, despite their intentions. By reaching for my ring, I destroyed it. I lessened its death grip on me. No more could I tarry with this fulsome fantasy of external completion. I had been surreptitiously served a summons to my decades-delayed individuation—stamped: attendance mandatory. Somehow, events played out where the goals of the higher self were served by the typical small-self folly: trying to control everything and everyone. And just like in The Lord of the Rings, the ego at its worst saved the day.I shudder to think what would have become of me had I gotten what I wanted. So lost was I in the ego’s projections. So narrow was my focus.Even days later, the ego had concocted a scheme to stealthily override the test results, to veto the ruling handed down by the high court. I could have easily rationalized it too. It took all the power I had to relinquish this idea. Yet, as I did, a fog lifted. A deep ache in my solar plexus subsided immediately. I had found myself at the Crossroads of Power and Force. I only barely chose power at the urging of my intuition. My conscience won out, but only because every alarm was blaring at full volume. And only because the truth had been made plain to me days before. Each test we encounter is an ethical test. Ethics are the currency of spiritual ascendance. Sometimes we may need to subdue the ego or to co-create with the ego. On other occasions, the higher self sees the folly of a situation and thus lets the ego clutch at and lose the very entity it so deeply desires. Not to merely prevent self-immolation, but to manifest an unseen and higher aim. Because it knows better. Witness the elegant efficiency of a higher perspective. Wrapped up in every situation is the key to freedom or bondage. Each choice promises either rejuvenation or retrenchment. There is no neutral option. Time’s a-wastin’ and the stakes are higher than they seem.Yet we must credit ourselves—and even our egos—where and when it’s due. I passed this test and others recently. Sometimes such acknowledgements can feel like faint praise when experiencing deep loss. And yet the soul implications can be staggering, despite the lack of fanfare. The ego seeks constant validation, applause and awards. The higher self has no need to accumulate such trinkets because its nature is timeless. Since I passed this test, I wonder at the where-and-when of the next test. What are the spoils of such victories? Perhaps an increased sense of stability, integrity and peace. Perhaps a watching universe offers subtle opportunities to build on this momentum. It may quietly beckon us to join a quest where we impart wisdom and discernment, to show a way through these battlefields of the mind so that others may be emboldened. We can be our own medicine. To demonstrate this for others can empower them to take heart and join their quests anew.—Please consider being a paid subscriber to assist me on my quest to share my story, my insights and my truth. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

If you enjoy my writing, please consider liking, sharing with friends, commenting or becoming a paid subscriber. I posted some months back about the choices we face in life in a post entitled:We can distill these options, these stances, down into Love or Fear, Power or Force. I was discussing the many similarities between two seminal books in my library: Power VS Force and Love is Letting Go of Fear. I need to re-read these books constantly because I so easily get swayed by my fear thoughts, my attempts at control, and the folly that these states can create.It was in this vein that I’ve been considering the personal and political implications of trying to use both power and force to get results. Sometimes it may be force masquerading as power. Perhaps we delude ourselves and others into thinking we are operating from power, from love and from assuredness, when the foundation is built on fear. When the actions are gentle in form but fearful and forceful at their core. When their design is to prevent fear’s prognostications from coming true. When we don’t know what we’ll do if it doesn’t work out.This brings to mind my favorite heroic movies and myths. We see ourselves in our heroes as they face tribulation and search for meaning, purpose and victory over the forces of chaos and destruction. We want to take bold actions in service of our goals. And yet, the hero’s journey is as much about the character development that proceeds the grand finale as the event itself. Sometimes the hero loses and gets a bitter dose of unrequested character development.Time after time, these heroes are asked to choose: self-service or surrender? Will they be consumed by anger, resentment and helplessness or allow themselves to empty such emotions from their container so as to be a hollow vessel for spiritual power.So when we wonder what to do next, we need to read between the lines. I know I can become myopic: single-minded-of-purpose. I see only achieving the goal before me. But I want us to adjust the perspective lens to glean more information and perhaps, see the deeper goals that are possible. Goals that may make the spoils of the specific quest seem inconsequential or at least transient.When pondering a specific quest today, I realized that at some level, I was being tested. Perhaps we always are. The way I behave and what I emanate are my legacy. Just watch the movie Cloud Atlas. This movie helped me consider the possibility that our actions and choices do matter, even if they may seem futile in the moment. Courage is rewarded. We rise and fall with our ethics. Our lives are full of seminal moments, battles between the forces of good and evil, within and without. Every step is a new crossroads.We can be haunted by regrets or choose our release from bondage by our willingness to be brave, bold, and kind when no one is looking. Or we can let fear guide us into grasping, clutching at what we see as ours in a world that we merely borrow for a time. A small voice is often speaking, asking, beckoning. Will we honor what we know to be right at our core? Or will we rationalize its suppression via the ego’s machinations?This leads to the aforementioned unholy alchemy. We may find ourselves at a station where we are being asked to relinquish that which we most cherish in order to fully become that which we could embody. It feels like a fool’s bargain. We finally see the prize. We may not have believed it was possible. And yet we are asked to hand it right back in service of spiritual purification. Our mettle is being tested. The ego’s last stand.Power or Force. Love or Fear. It really does come down to a binary sometimes. I want to pass the test this time. And perhaps, like in certain tales, we may inevitably receive that which we relinquish. Surrender is the final test. Let’s be careful to realize that we can choose power and love in big moments but unconsciously toggle between love and fear, power and force, in a way that creates a defacto blending of these vastly different motivations. We’re human. Fear can keep us alive. We worry, we consume media, and we interact with other fallible humans. I think we need to take the time to consider our motivations. We need to consider what the outcomes may be if we get what we want. We need to realize that to acquiesce due to bad timing or temporary misalignment is not giving up. It’s patience. We can employ faith and trust. Let’s be careful to root out the force, the rush, the impatience, the rationalizing. These are warning signs that we’ve entered the ego’s realm. The ego misleads and confounds with deft. Good-hearted souls need not only fear domination from the Dark Side: becoming the enemy and falling down into the clutches of evil. We need to recognize the ways that darkness insinuates itself into and dilutes and spoils our legitimate goals and enterprises. The ways it cheapens and poisons our relationships. How businesses formerly aligned with quality, value, and concern for society and workers can become an abusive cabal of wealth extractors in a generation. They, like we, rise and fall due to our choices and their implications. Weed out the darkness from your enterprises of light. Do not let the unholy alchemy of power welded to force be the downfall of all you hold dear.I am now offering 1 free Active Listening Session to my readers who share my writing with 3 friends. This a coaching session where we focus on any issues or questions that may be coming up in your life. DM me if interested. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

In popular culture, being called a fool is an insult. Fools are not taken seriously and are often ostracized. Being foolish means to waste time on non-productive aims. In literature, fools like don Quixote are lampooned for ‘chasing at windmills.’ They misunderstand and are easily tricked. But I argue that we dismiss the power and importance of the fool at our peril.One can be a fool intellectually, buying into quaint notions of romanticism or stringent ethics. Fools often go against the grain, speaking up and out about government, business, when the mood of the society doesn’t reward such speech. A fool can be a culture’s bulwark against a slide into corruption or hedonism. Fools often see a problem coming before it manifests fully.In a King’s Court in the Dark Ages in Europe, the fool was an important character. He provided entertainment for the court, often at his expense. Though he may have been tormented, he was granted the special privilege of challenging the King’s decrees and behaviors via his mockery. Since he was viewed as a simpleton, he was tacitly granted this quarter.Mythologically and esoterically, the fool is an archetype with greater depth than our modern understanding would indicate. Often mentioned with the overlapping trickster archetype, the fool may help us see where we’ve been too serious, too certain, and too stuffy. The fool shows us where we have been blinded by our arrogance. When we reconnect with our humility and our purpose, we can look back in gratitude for our comeuppance. The Fool is innocent, playful and childlike. Modern adults, often institutionalized by work, suppress these characteristics.I have always wanted to write a treatise on this character and this short essay can’t do such an intriguing subject justice. My purpose today is to challenge my readers to reconsider the value and the meaning when a fool shows up in their day. Perhaps someone teases you, beguiles you. Maybe you feel like a fool for believing someone. We can chide ourselves for being a fool. We can believe in the ideals of our nation when others have capitulated to corruption. We can act with moral clarity when others are self-serving. We can honor our spiritual beliefs when challenging times come. We can feel fooled in love or friendship and feel exposed. Our instincts may be to shut down, to harden and to ‘Do as the Romans Do.’ But our foolishness is no curse. And to retreat from our child-like innocence means betraying our truth.Perhaps greater discernment is in order, but being the fool means to try, to extend ourselves and to stay open. A fool believes and trusts and plays. A fool maintains his innocence while others choose cynicism and group think.To be a called a fool in a culture that is sick and dying is an honor. A fool is steadfast and self-soothing. And often, a fool is doubted until his prognostications come true, and then he is lauded. If someone calls you a fool, thank them. Discernment means seeing ourselves and our true nature. Be willing to be wrong, to try and lose and to fail. This practice shows you who you are and what you want. This information is a blessing. The fool is here to help us individuate and rediscover ourselves: our meaning, our purpose, our essence and our value. The fool is the archetypal counterbalance to cynicism. Cynicism is the death of community, of spirituality, of trust, of faith and the social contract. Cynicism is a slow decline into soul-death. The fool is the antidote. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I was busy working in the sun—immersed, trimming things, and feeling the crisp aliveness of the wind on my skin. Then suddenly it dawned on me that there was a time before I loved her. (I know this is trite, but humor me for a bit) Such was the inner non-sequitur that interrupted my link with nature that day. Similarly, this love pulled me from the dazed tunnel vision I had been employing. She became so central to my experience. I instantly felt as if her presence had always been there: despite our years of mere acquaintance. ‘Past lives’ is the default response when we can’t place why someone’s presence is so important to us: when this feeling comes on like a switch that we can’t and don’t want to turn off. As if they had been missing all along. A sense of relief, of coming home. Of excitement of being truly seen on a deep level. A level of compatibility that stuns and speaks of destiny.I was bewildered in the best way. I knew enough to immediately call both parents the morning after the first date to tell them I’d found the One. This was Not a pattern of mine. Such was the point of departure from my previous life. I was enthralled from the first kiss and before. Everything after was a dreamy reverie of union and bliss. One night in the dark, as the moonlight shone through the blinds, I looked in her eyes and told her, our faces inches away, “I love you.” I couldn’t possibly hold it in anymore. And I’ve been in love before, but never like this. After 50 years of life, I recognized the auspiciousness and the rarity. My feet greeted the hallowed ground of this sacred space.We were wide open and full of promise. I sensed her courage as she came to me and requited a few nights later, after a careful caucus with her guides. I felt her words waft their way to my ears as they glimmered and danced, lighting up my heart, sending little shocks of frisson through my body. Our souls were intertwined as if they had always been. I was absolutely certain this would never end. I had finally found her.Months passed and we became each other’s person. So much joy and laughter, togetherness and union. And yet, our stage was set with chaos and intense, seismic transitions. Our lives were layered in crises when we met. I didn’t stop to think that those impediments could mar our celestial affiliation.Then, in silence, the avalanche overtook us. A spell was cast and we were banished from the Garden. Everything stopped. The link was severed via bonesaw. We stopped sharing our lives and our days, our troubles and funny videos. No more walks and talks. No more. We just stopped one day.I know all the reasons and yet I still don’t know why.My love has deepened in absence, despite the shock and awe.Maybe one day I’ll understand, in the sweet bye and bye.I guess part of me got scared that I won’t remember these details after a while. They’ll just blur into a few peak memories. This caught me off-guard: that I’d even lose the memories. An intrusive thought, a message from within about the wrecking ball that tore down the dilapidated structures of my old urban core. The new skyline was just in the planning stage. In another dimension, these special memories would reside in a consecrated space between these lovers: cherished as the magical, germinal moments that they were. In a photo album casually perused at a wedding reception, an anniversary party, and a funeral. But not for these two star-crossed lovers.These two deeply sensitive soulsPerhaps too sensitive to bear the burdens and stay open and connected Too calloused to trust one more time and for the first timeToo jaded to believe what they knew to be trueUnmet needs and complaints co-mingle and fester when left unspokenOld wounds conspire and bedevilGenerational curses shackle the unsuspecting Karma arrives with a thudAn ancient spell, bound and superheated in a cauldron of fate, bubbling over with consequence. All the injustices of our lives led to that promontory point. The detritus of lifetimes of sleepwalking, only to awaken to devastation. The dishonors absorbed and meted out. Our parents and our parents’ parents. Witness the totality of our ancestral lines: their losses, their heartaches and their toil. The weight of a thousand lifetimes, the yearning of a thousand souls. And yet there is the promise of the new.I suppose the only antidote to such black magic is stronger magic. How does one lift a curse of such scope and scale? What does love ask of me in this moment? Maybe some day I’ll break that spell. Maybe those same ancestors will assist me and rejoice. Love finds a way. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

This one is personal to me, but perhaps it’s also a universal response to the vagaries of life. I love how we keep excavating more of what makes humans tick. We used to say fight or flight. Then we added freeze. Later we began discussing fawning, people pleasing, as a new trauma response.Well I think we need to add force to the list. First, let me define my term. In this case, I mean when we push, cajole, demand, stay up all night and attempt to overpower a situation in order to get the desired result. When the s**t is hitting the fan due to previous inaction.This behavior can come up for multiple reasons. Consider someone who, under accumulated stress, freezes. He does nothing. He tends to avoid problems until they accrue. When the bills and deadlines come due, he springs into action. He forces outcomes and pushes others to comply in order to evade the undesirable natural consequences of his freezing, his typical trauma response. So his forcing is needed and in response to his freezing. I wonder if we might just force things as a direct reaction to stressful situations. Others among us have learned how to force from family members. Whatever its genesis, forcing creates its own problems.We aren’t at our best when we force. Others feel the strain. We can push so hard that we begin another cycle of burnout where we want to go freeze again. Our work is rushed and the results are usually poorer. Sometimes we must force things. But only because we are usually reacting to the last mess we’ve made responding to the trials of life.I’m looking at my life with the intention of seeing where I have forced things and how that may have limited my results. How it may have pushed people away or blocked opportunities. But deeper, I wonder if forcing things shrouds our authentic self: our art, our true feelings, our talents.Forcing is done in response to fear. Sometimes fear is a good guide, but its effects are hard to shake off. We can be consumed by fear if we are not careful to notice where and when it overstays its welcome. Noticing the urge to force outcomes might be a good litmus test, indicating we are once again under the spell of fear. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I love movie macguffins. In Ghostbusters, crossing the streams was the ultimate taboo for the characters to avoid when using their proton packs to catch ghosts. Egon was afraid doing so would cause a cellular chain reaction that could do untold harm. And yet, spoiler alert, it was the only way the boys were able to prevail against the enemy in the final climactic scene. They had to break the rules. They had to risk everything to win. They had to face their worst fears and go against conventional wisdom.This happens again and again in our favorite movies, especially those centered on Joseph Campbell’s teachings on the Hero’s Journey. In Return of the Jedi, Luke went against Master Yoda’s protestations in order to leave and save his friends. He finally drew his guidance from within. He finally trusted himself, despite the fact that he didn’t finish his training. This is individuation. And this, like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters, was the only way for the hero and the rebellion to succeed. It was the only thing the character couldn’t do and yet the only choice that would save all he held dear.In Richard Donner’s Superman from 1978, Superman found Lois dead in a car after an earthquake where he was too late to save her. His long-dead parents had sent along teachings about earth and how to make his way there. Chief among these rules was not meddling in the history and natural order on this new planet. But the hero chose differently. Enraged at her death, he chose love and risked his honor to do what his heart commanded. He turned back time to save his love.Star Trek had a great concept called the Prime Directive. This overarching rule reminded Starfleet officers to not meddle in the affairs of the people and planets they encountered. But in the real situations where these explorers found themselves, they faced situations with no easy answers. When this directive was violated, the violator might be tried in a court marshal. Under extraordinary circumstances, these choices were excused. Maybe they chose to save lives of those who didn’t know the rules. Situational ethics can be tricky. But the basic theme is the same: sometimes we just know what we have to do and the rules don’t or can’t apply. Conventional wisdom doesn’t get the last word. We take the ultimate risks for what really matters. when events corner us into the clarity brought on by necessity and conviction. Sometimes we just know what we have to do.So victory awaits beyond fear, beyond conformity. Self-assurance is a choice, a practice and often a threat to the sensibilities of internal voices and of those we esteem. Risk elicits fear, and yet these movies captivate us with moments where the stakes are so high that the characters must face their fears in order to protect and defend those in their charge. To do what must be done. So fear becomes the final gatekeeper to rites of passage that offer freedom, transcendence and power. Instead of viewing fear as a problem to be solved, we can see it as a compass, as a guide to the next stage of individuation. We can choose to not identify as the fear itself, but as the person experiencing it as a temporary condition or experience.However we choose to address fear, we can use these movies to remind us that the answers are sometimes counter-intuitive. When our logic hits a wall we must dig deeper to find the answers. Perhaps fear is the messenger that one of these seminal moments approaches. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

We intuit the need for compromise when we think of meeting in the middle. Both sides give ground and are willing to lose in order to negotiate peace. But the insight I’m experiencing isn’t encapsulated by the former frame of reference.I had been asking for miracles in my life from the perspective of learned helplessness. Then I considered some of the situations where I was grateful for recent gifts. A common denominator was that I took a leap of faith and was rewarded in these situations. I was lonely so I asked for companionship. Soon after, I had the opportunity to adopt a senior cat. I gave her refuge and found myself accompanied by a sweet furry old lady cat. This was despite the financial concerns I had and the responsibility this added to my often hectic life. I had to be willing to see past the fear.I found myself lamenting the loss of previous homes where I had transformed the properties into a lush jungle. So I took the time to start making cuttings and planting a few plants in areas that were barren in my new yard. Now I have a morning routine of caring for these plants and watching the wonders of nature as I walk barefoot through the rain-soaked lawn. This is just what I do. This is me being a Green Man. I don’t feel right until I establish this connection with the land.In both situations I had to initiate. There are others too, but you get the picture. From work to health to relationships, we pay our dues to the universe and hope the universe meets us in the middle.This realization has brought forth insights. The first is that I have to meet the universe in the middle when I beseech it for answers and relief and guidance. I have to try, to listen, to stop and be still, to sacrifice and to choose. I have to keep my side of the street clean and hope the universe recognizes my gesture and bestows upon me that which I need and seek. I have to do the work. Similarly, I now require that others meet me in the middle if we are to create something together. I’ve been both the taker and the over-giver. Neither extreme feels right at a soul level. It may not be the exact middle either. It’s not about keeping score. We need to maintain a willingness to give, to humanize the other and to question our perception of events. The middle might be just one step past our comfort zone. All the victories, all the connections, businesses, activities, animals and memorable events I’ve experienced were because I tried. Because I stuck my neck out. Because I moved past fear. Because I wanted it more than I was afraid of looking silly.This is how I discovered talents like writing and drumming. This is how I met lovers and discovered myself. How I found my passions and pastimes. How I made connections that mattered and lasted.I don’t have all the answers. While I believe we can and should manifest what we want, sometimes the universe has other ideas. We must factor this into the equation. We may have a spark of divinity within us, but we still live in a mysterious world. We don’t know why we’re here or what comes next. I am willing to meet the unfathomable halfway and see what happens. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I am one of those Taylor Swift fans who doesn’t like her music, though I enjoy her generosity, outspokenness and strength. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard a song of hers that I liked, the moody This is Me Trying. It felt less polished and commercial. I liked the atmosphere, the pace and the vampy tone. But what stuck out to me were the questions it raised about life, relationships and our very solid ideas about what it means to succeed.Most Star Wars fans remember Master Yoda beckoning to Luke: ‘Do or Do Not. There is No Try.’ This tough-love approach mirrors our classic American work ethic. We are taught that ‘trying is lying’ when we don’t live up to sales goals or get poor grades at school. We portray trying as an excuse and a failure. While I’m sure this motivates many, I wonder if we might reconsider our blanket rejection of trying.The singer describes how her trying feels risky, and yet she moves past her comfort zone: perhaps for the first time. She is navigating old feelings, remorse and feeling stuck. This is a song about vulnerability and overwhelm, but also persistence. Perhaps trying is all we have. Maybe trying is trusting, letting in a little faith that things could be different this time.Personal relationships are not sales quotas. Doctors can’t try to perform a surgery. They must succeed. But humans who seek a loving union must try. In such relationships, trying is succeeding.Trying may take many forms in love relationships: the willingness to trust again after being hurtgiving others the benefit of the doubtleaving our comfort zone to risk rejectioncommunicating difficult feelings and expectationsforgiving transgressionsSo as we look at our current and previous relationships, we can honor ourselves and our partners for the times where we and they were courageous and tried when so many voices inside protested. When we put pattern recognition aside and trusted someone who looked and sounded like someone who hurt usWhen we admitted we were acting small and didn’t know what to do about itWhen we saw someone we loved give everything they had for usWhen we accepted that someone we loved couldn’t try in a key momentTrying is the point of departure. Trying is the gesture that says:You’re worth the effortYou’re not a collection of your worst momentsI see how much you love meI see your innocence and goodnessSo when relationships end or fail, one or both parties have decided not to try anymore. Maybe their trying wasn’t being reciprocated. Maybe trying wasn’t enough. Perhaps the parties couldn’t align. Perhaps doubts or fears crept in. Old patterns and overwhelming life circumstances. Misunderstandings and unhealed ruptures. Bad timing.A rueful insight that keeps coming to me:Even when you have two kind souls with a sacred bond and loving intentions, there are so many pitfalls: fear, lack of trust, misunderstanding, communication issues, external influences, and traumas. No relationship is invincible. There’s no sure thing.Another sad realization dawned on me:In real ways, this was me trying for the first time in my life.Nothing I have ever experienced approaches this level of pain and loss.This is me trying to let go. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I remember a person from my youth mentioning that a tiger can’t change his stripes. I would debate them with the opposite point; I thought we were more affected by nurture than nature. Both sides of the argument have valid points. I see the tiger argument as being cover for a person who doesn’t want to change and thus has formed his beliefs around this resistance. “I’m just like this,” they might say.My therapist in high school mentioned a useful dichotomy and it stuck with me: Trait or State? I love how a term can illuminate and expand the depth of inquiry. He was asking me about my depression and related behaviors. Are these core traits, or are they choices brought on by temporal states of consciousness? I didn’t know. Perhaps the curiosity it invokes is more important than conclusions.Another question arises: what are the long-term effects of these states? Do states ever make de facto traits? Or do we ever get fooled into thinking something is a trait because we’ve been in a state for so long as to render it second nature? These questions are beyond my pay-grade. Again, perhaps the state of curiosity can suffice. I point out when I see an error in perception. I want to map it so that others may avoid the pitfall. I need to feel more understood and put a name to a face. I seek a sense of beginner’s mind in my readers and myself. I love sureness, but we are so often artificially sure because we skip steps in critical thinking. I want people to arrive at sureness via open-mindedness, objectivity and close scrutiny of their thought and feeling processes. We can convince ourselves of anything, especially with the help of others, social media, and our old wounds. What happens when we question everything we profess to believe?I’ve presented this question as an error in judgment and perception. The error is assuming a person’s tendencies are ingrained and unchangeable. That assumption leaves out the conditions, what’s going on in their life. Can we contextualize the behaviors and believe that this person is capable of change?If so, maybe we can come to believe that we are capable of change and growth. We can view our personalities and tendencies as fluid and mutable. And we can view others as dynamic instead of static. When we view others as static, we may be protecting ourselves from pain or from having to grow, change, or offer others a chance. We may protect ourselves from the vagaries of vulnerability, only to subject ourselves to the vagaries of loneliness. We do this because our attachment injuries try to recreate the same familiar scenarios from our youth or relationship patterns. And we think, I’m just like this. I always screw up relationships. But we really just need to retrain our neurology, our behavior patterns, our attitudes and responses. Then we can have the love we want without losing ourselves. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Please check out this recording for a description of my interview series.Episode 1 should land early next week.Thanks to all my subscribers for reading my posts and commenting and sharing.~Jason This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

In a courtroom, the accused cannot plead ignorance. We are responsible for following the laws of the land, even if we don’t know what they are. The onus is on us to adhere to the myriad laws of cities, counties, states and nations—all at once. We are at the mercy of the power society wields.In our personal lives, we wonder at the very nature of reality. We may not know what we want, who we are and why we’re here. We may not understand the motivations of the people and institutions around us. We can feel lost in a world bustling with activity and enterprise. Are we violating unseen laws of reality?I am reminded of an 80’s TV show called Greatest American Hero. The lead character had a super suit, but never got the instruction manual. So he would crash and spin and flail for the whole episode and eventually succeed and help the person who needed his heroism. This reminds me of our plight as humans: making do with our barely provisional understanding.We don’t magically know what to become or how. We don’t automatically have needed skills, nor are we taught discernment. Armed with a minimal education, we are not taught how to find our way psychologically and spiritually. We are largely expected to just figure it out. The world goes on like this and seems to thrive, and yet, it’s chaotic. Some of us may have gone through much of our lives feeling lost, wishing we had that instruction manual for our super suit.Spiritual traditions and religions abound. They can offer guidance but can be self-serving. So we either follow the teachings or we forge a path on our own. This can feel quixotic. One can emerge beleaguered from decades of disjointed searching for meaning, purpose, direction and happiness. We just don’t know much about this place and our place in it.Why are we here? Who put us here? We seek meaning, togetherness and a better life despite or perhaps because of our relative ignorance about our very nature. We seek to create our art as catharsis and to help others. We do this not knowing where our efforts will take us or if it matters.So when I speak of pleading ignorance, I mean it from the most humble and bewildered place. A place of wonder and genuine surprise. I didn’t know life was like this. I didn’t know I could waste so much time, or come to love so deeply. I had dulled my capacity to love and was unaware we could come back from such places, and that this return would bring such pain. I didn’t know I could want something so much until I experienced it and then lost it. I was so certain of my beliefs around such subjects. What else didn’t I know? How else have I deceived myself?We speak of our inner child glibly, but no one ever verifies that we have one until things on the outside fall apart. How would we have known to learn about such things? We have cars and planes and an internet, but we’ve not even begun to meet ourselves. We, like the deep sea, are functionally uncharted and fluid. We are part of a grand mystery, and yet we are at the mercy of that mystery. We walk around like we know what we’re doing. We do what everyone else does, like the first day in yoga class. Go to your job. Go on vacation. Buy things. Talk about what people talk about.I don’t seek to shirk responsibility by pleading ignorance. I see my errors, but most are the fruits of my misperceptions. Self-deception is just that: we don’t know we are doing it. We think we speak our hearts clearly, and yet can be fundamentally misunderstood. And the meanings morph as more events pile up and the days and years pass. This is where we are. I make the following petition to the court of life:I request the benefit of the doubt. I am innocent until proven guilty. I deserve grace, like the grace I willingly offer. I want my counterparts (inner child, friends, family, lover) to accept that I’m acting from a place of benevolence: an honest place. That I am a friend, not a foe. And to realize I need and deserve a chance to prove such things. And further, that when mistakes happen, that they are not a sign of malignancy, of ill-intent, or of deep character flaws. They are the errors of a loving and growing human.To me, our innocence is self-evident. I can’t confidently say that I know everyone is innocent. But I can’t think of the last mistake I made that was not made innocently. I was mistaken about someone’s intent. I had bad information. I didn’t consider the consequences. I reacted. I panicked. I deceived myself. I’m still culpable, but I’m also still good. These days, I think we must be careful to manage and filter our beliefs around self and our innate goodness. We must be willing to defend ourselves and our character too. We can unwittingly buy into character assassination, often in the form of generalizations about ourselves as an representative of our various subcultures. We can look to social media as one culprit. Often in our zeal to be accountable, we may self-gaslight as we try to fit in. If we are fish and trauma is the water in which we swim, then we don’t see the water. It’s ubiquitous. To question a person’s perception is not manipulation, unless you’re doing it for nefarious purposes. That’s the difference, the intent. We so casually buy into the oft-misleading messages of the meme we saw on our feed. Critical thinking can be easily bypassed by repetition. Some of us who remember a time before the internet may spot this more easily.A level of sophistication is needed to navigate the pitfalls of this moment in time. We can look back on the Robber Barons of the Gilded Age and realize that some things never change. Some of those we follow on social media are grifters and charlatans. They play on our ignorance, our desperation for happiness, our limited attention span and our bandwagon tendencies. Sophistry abounds. But if we don’t keep a critical eye to manipulation or a fallacy, it’s hard to notice it in real time. Thus we risk our capacity to perceive our realities. This is propaganda in high tech. I seem to have a Spidey-Sense of such things, in retrospect, but am just as susceptible. I remember buying a Jordan Peterson book and acting like this guy had all the answers. Then I watched some videos about him, Mel Robbins, Andrew Huberman and others who are everywhere. I was astonished at the manipulative use of language, the appeals to authority, the mass hypnosis of it all. The shady deals and the dishonesty. We take them on faith because they’re rich and successful. Look what that has gotten us politically. We do this at our peril. The dividing line is awareness.We’re so modern and yet we’re still rubes, especially because we can’t see it. It’s just human nature. We love when the snake oil salesman pulls into town. We love to be sold. We love the charisma, the theater, and the promise of a better day. We want to turn our minds off and to push that easy button. We could all plead ignorance and we’d be forgiven. And yet it’s not a question of absolution, but of survival, for our selves, our nation, and our souls. Can we see what is real? Can we decode the internal and external messages that bombard us? Can we maintain a greater level of awareness? In the richest nation, we are all a paycheck away from disaster. In the Land of the Free, we fear rendition to a South American prison. In the 21st century, women don’t have the bodily autonomy they did in 1973, when you could smoke in an airplane or a hospital. We can send a probe out of the Solar System, but can’t stop the constant forest fires raging across the globe. We are awash in stark contradictions and social upheaval. The Pope is a White Sox fan. The President is a pretend TV show business man. And I’m sure when he’s gone his supporters will plead ignorance. And we’ll throw up our hands and let them. Not because of veracity, but because we have grace. This grace is the glue that holds our affiliations together. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I love etymology, the study of the evolution of the meanings of words. Such explorations can parallel and inform our search for a more personal understanding. When society offers ready-made explanations and well-worn paths, we may seek satisfaction in a search of our own. Redeem is a word layered in meanings and usage: one that we use in business and in personal life. We can redeem a coupon. We can trade this thing of value for something of ours, like a layaway, or for something we purchase. We may also seek redemption in a personal or spiritual way. Our religions offer redemption through surrender to a higher power, following the rules of religious texts and discipline. Through such choices, many find greater joy, peace and community. They may swear off behaviors, addictions, and unloving attitudes. I honor this tradition.Some of our favorite movies, mythological and otherwise, involve a person awakening to their faults, their past and their transgressions. We love watching them overcome the pitfalls on the road to redemption. To be redeemed is a rite of passage, a hero’s journey to wholeness and equilibrium.I love redemption stories. I love the renewal they promise in the form of humility, accountability, change, growth and spiritual seeking. One might make amends and make changes. They may seek guidance about stubborn foibles. They may rediscover passions and connections. The lost are found via seeking and finding redemption.In this case redemption means to purchase oneself back from the debt of negativity and a life squandered. It also means to re-deem, to look again. To take the measure of ourselves with fresh, loving eyes. What a powerful and courageous choice. Perhaps this is the core of the undertaking.We must re-deem ourselves. Yes, we may undertake treacherous and painstaking work. But let’s try seeing ourselves afresh: celebrating our strengths, our talents, our innate goodness. Do we unwittingly dance to the typecasting of our inner demons and our external detractors? Will we re-visit our opinions of ourselves? Do we stand up for ourselves? Can we redefine our self-image?I ask because I see a flaw in the apparent philosophy of the redemption theme: that we must act and change our way out of negativity. We are not enough until we do these acts and make these changes. We are not worthy. We must fix it. We must change for our god, our family, our business or our friends. And we may actually need to make major behavioral and attitudinal changes. But we may want to consider if unquestioningly accepting this initial premise may be a form of covert self-non-acceptance.This is where we could get into the weeds. Are we removing a lifetime of programming, unknowingly downloaded from our families and societies? Of course. So the changes of which we speak may amount to a shedding of all that is not us: co-dependence, people pleasing, suppressed feelings, and other agents of in-authenticity. These and others abound in us and disrupt our experience of our essence. So let’s remember that the changes we need to make are the releasing/healing of faulty attitudes, misunderstandings, grudges and other forms of ignorance to which we are all susceptible.I want to caution my reader friends not to use redemption as a tool for self-flagellation. We are so easily misled by our traumas, our families, friends, media, businesses and social media. Don’t blame yourself for being ignorant. It’s not your fault. But it is your responsibility. Don’t blame yourself for being negative. It’s hard to be sensitive in a society that is sick and on a planet that is being exploited. Join the billions of members of the stressed-out club. We are all like this. Those who are thriving despite all the pressures of the economy and personal limitations should be emulated. We can honor the path that they forge for us to follow.Many use organized religion with its obvious strengths and pitfalls in order to seek redemption. I commend them. Others use more aboriginal spiritual endeavors, the arts, philosophy, love of nature, animals, exercise, music, and charity. We can mix and match to our liking. We can model the behaviors of those who are having success. Whatever choices we make, let’s make them in the spirit of self-love, not self-blame. Most of our faults can be chalked up to trauma responses, misunderstandings, and just plain human frailty. Letting ourselves off the hook for our mistakes and limitations may be the most important step on the path to a new life.Don’t disparage yourself. Don’t help others define you in a negative light. You are not a collection of your faults. Swear off your previous transgressions against self and others. Make amends. But don’t let it take you down. Because you may come to a place where the burden is too much and it will sneak up on you. We are often all-too-ready to grovel and see ourselves as lowly. But this doesn’t help. It’s a fine line between humility and humiliation. The missing ingredient is self-respect. No creator and no one who truly loves us would want us to be unkind to ourselves. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

The grave title evokes images of treachery, of pirate ships on the high seas and dramatic historical events. A mutiny is a violent act of rebellion and betrayal. And yet, some historical mutinies may have been justified or inevitable. I wonder if such metaphors can shed light on our inner landscapes and unseen internal power-struggles.Over time, the main focus of my writing has shifted from the macro to the micro, from politics to the personal. In Singular and Collective, I argued that we are a collection of memories and of genetics and attitudes and bacteria and organs. We see ourselves as singular creatures and yet we are a collection of oft-competing voices. We are also singular members of collective entities like couples, families, companies and nations. The more we heal and embody ourselves, the more these other affiliations heal and vice versa.As I consider what’s behind our relationship struggles, I have landed at attachment theory. In my recent essay, Externalizing the Voices of Maladaptation, I explored how we tend to identify as the thoughts and stances of our attachment styles. We take for granted that we are in charge, making our personal decisions. But I argue that instead of ‘we,’ what often runs the show may be more of a collection of attitudes and trauma responses instead of our true adult self. These programs become second nature and limit our interactions, especially if we are unaware of their existence and unseen influence on our choices.So the imagery of Mutiny on the Bounty is a furtherance of the ideas I presented in the aforementioned essays. The mutiny in question is one where our core wounds take over. Some core wounds you may recognize: abandonment, mother wound, father wound, worthiness, etc. Core wounds are the result of early childhood trauma. Be it neglect or abuse, we develop these core wounds as a result. We then get triggered by events that remind us of those previous events and which then alerts our amygdala to have a fight/flight response. For some of us who are easily triggered and may have been triggered for years, we may be ruled by our wounds. We do need to externalize the voices of maladaptation, but the attachment style is not the source of the problem. It’s the symptom. The problem is that the core wound is using the attachment style as an interface by which to control us. Because the core wound knows that if we unmask it and do the healing work, we will functionally kill the wound. We will wrestle back authority over our lives and reintegrate the energy that was being used by the core wound. So, I posit that our needs and those of our wounds are at cross purposes. This is the cause of the cognitive dissonance we experience.We have been operating under the assumption that our core wounds and, by extension, our attachment styles, are trying to protect us. But perhaps our core wounds are trying to stay alive themselves. These mutineers have hijacked our minds. If we are not careful, they will steer our lives over the cliff. They have mutated from a child’s defense mechanisms to a sub-entity, a thought form, a ghost and a pseudo-self. We talk about the wounded self or wounded child, but I think the key word is wound. The wound is in charge. The wound has infiltrated our personality and, in my experience, is constantly trying to distract me from this truth.This insight was powerful for me for a few reasons. First, recognizing that the core wound serves its own interests helps explain why getting control over my mind is so difficult. The wound is constantly distracting me with fears, worries, sadness, the past and negative feelings and thoughts. These in no way help me. But as long as that wound has me believing it’s me that is sad, me that is broken, then I won’t threaten its existence and its place in the driver’s seat every time I’m triggered. And for some of us, that state may be more common than we know. We may think we are not triggered most of the time, but I’m wondering if we might view such states along a continuum as opposed to an on/off switch. If we have multiple core wounds, it’s possible to be under the influence of multiple wounds at once. Clearing or releasing one may initiate relief and instill the false sense that we are now not triggered.Earlier I mentioned how certain real life historical mutinies may have been justified or inevitable. I wonder if the mutiny of our core wounds was and is inevitable. If we were traumatized at an early age, then we didn’t develop certain skills and facets of ourselves. The wound may have protected us, but if we never develop in that area and choose to unwittingly self-abandon, then it seems only natural that the wound would step in as a pseudo-self. This would explain its relative sophistication. It may have been impersonating us for years or most of our lives. This works just fine as a provisional solution until new stressors come along and demand more than this stilted version of ourselves can handle.Then we have to go in and do the work. That work may include therapy, somatic work, meditation, EFT, attachment work, journaling, shadow work, inner child work/reparenting and more. And it is not for the faint of heart, but neither is living under the mutiny. Neither is running away from or driving away those we dearly love. Living in fight-or-flight is not thriving.If you like my work, please consider sharing it, liking it, subscribing, or being a paid subscriber. I hope this writing helps you recontextualize your life issues and brings you hope. Since I often write about the darkness, I want to include something positive for my readers. Please remember that your essence is loving. It’s ok to need love. It’s also ok to have made mistakes in your efforts to seek love or to have hidden from the overwhelm of its apparent demands. Getting better at this is possible. Soon I’ll be embarking on a course of study where I’ll be learning how. More on that later.Please enjoy the following song about love by one of my favorite artists: This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

What was so compelling about the movie, Bladerunner? I was changed by this movie, despite rewatching and finding it slow 25 years later. I'll blame screens and my ADHD. Obviously it was well cast and acted. There were huge, memorable scenes and much novelty and exposition. The Film Noir feel set a gloomy mood: darkness, rain, endless night and disconnection. An urban future dystopia that spoke of a worsening decay, an exaggeration of the problems of today.But the movie asked philosophical questions centering around the need for and lack of connection with others in an atomized world. Also, the film pondered the questions, 'what makes one alive?' What makes us real? What makes us legitimate? And thus, what is a real connection when we don't know if the other is real? (and by extension, if we are truly real).BladeRunner posits that life begins when we realize how fleeting it is. This is epitomized in Rutger Hauer's scene 'tears in the rain,' which he rewrote. I was devastated and transfixed. I'll never forget that scene, and yet, through much of my life, I didn't let its message inform my decisions.He was motivated to forgive his enemy and to save life in his final moments of life. Impending death brought meaning, purpose, inspiration, and appreciation, even to a man who was a machine. He had gained perspective.He spared Deckard's life and this prompted Deckard to value his remaining time and to speed away with his woman who was no woman. It didn't matter. His and her lives were fleeting and they had a deep connection. The only consideration was getting to safety and spending whatever time remained together.Because the distinctions didn't matter. Who was human and who was a machine. This was the red herring that dominated the movie and distracted the viewer. Robot or human can be stand-ins for gay or straight, black or white, citizen or illegal, protestant or Catholic, and on and on. We focus on the surface, the label, the differences, the apparent mismatches, at our peril. Our fascination with binaries wastes our precious time. This is the time where we could be loving our lovers, and living our lives.As we approach this computerized future where giant businesses dominate and liberty feels quaint, we must do as the unlikely heroes did in this love letter to courage; we must feel for one another. We must see past arbitrary labels. We are alive now. Life is precious. There is no time to waste. All we have are our selves and our soul connections. Togetherness is what makes life worth living.That movie came out when I was a child. I first saw it as a 25 year old adult. I reveled in its high drama. And then I fell asleep for 25 more years. And here I am sitting in the full catastrophe of its meaning. There is nothing but the urgent task of loving those we love and living our truth. And then we're gone. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I’ve been writing essays for ten years, 5 in earnest. I began writing about insights that came through me. Some inner voice would urge me to speak on a subject; politics, our culture, the arts, philosophy and personal development were the main subjects. I see how we exchange ideas via social media and other interactions. We often adopt ideas and stances when one of our preferred thinkers presents us with a novel idea.This exchange can be powerful and helpful, accelerating our development, our connection to others and to new information. But the results of such exchanges can also be deadly, spreading misinformation about cures and viruses, autocrats in savior’s clothes. We are amazing creatures, and yet we’re not great at discernment. Each of us falls prey to propaganda, fake news, and quackery constantly. We think in fallacies and are influenced by unseen biases. We also fall prey to a cynicism that all unfamiliar ideas must be quackery unless and until our intellect is satisfied. We can wall ourselves off from useful information that might help us. Such is the nature of our myopia.I have been circling around attachment theory for maybe 10 years. Initially a friend used it to explain my behavior in a relationship that was not working. I began exploring the concept and the vast implications of this important work. As the years have passed I believe that attachment theory is a deep-dive most of us need to take.The idea is that we have mal-adaptive stances toward bonding and relationships based on early childhood neglect or abuse from our caregivers. PTSD, from this perspective, is omnipresent, not just for survivors of natural disasters and war. Early life and relationships later on affect our capacity to give and receive love, to trust or conversely, to be alone.We’re all familiar with how our minds can play tricks on us. Our egos worry, blame, judge and envy others. They preoccupy us with shallow aims if we are not vigilant. We can and must develop the capacity to discern truth from fiction, in the world at large and in our own minds. We so often identify with anything our minds say and all feelings these thoughts illicit. We can become depressed or anxious if we identify with negative self-perceptions. We can generalize about the opposite sex or people of different spiritual or political leanings. Many of these stances are borrowed from people in our lives: our parents and siblings, teachers and friends. Clearly social media propagandizes us constantly. We are bombarded with an overwhelming cacophony of talking-points that illicit feelings in order to get us to vote for a candidate or to not vote at all. We are asked to: buy this product, trust my authority, keep up with the Joneses. We could be forgiven for wanting to collapse under the weight of these conflicting and demanding external influences. But as above so below; a similar manipulation is occurring within.I posit that our personal attachment styles: anxious, avoidant, secure, anxious-avoidant, are as important to study as our favorite politician’s shady past or our tantric breath work Doula’s training. We take our own thoughts and beliefs as gospel at our own peril. We are misled by the cognitive distortions provided by our faulty attachment styles when we unquestioningly identify with what they tell us about ourselves and our lovers. I call this the ego’s ego. Attachment is an overlay onto our already complex nature that we must include and account for if we are going to truly learn to trust our discernment on affairs of the heart.It’s not enough to realize we have an attachment style, to name it and accept it. We must be willing to question our every belief. Because intimate relationships eventually illicit these deep-seated trauma responses. If we identify as those responses, we will rationalize their whispers. We will reject those who are safe or seek those who are not. We will be unwilling or unable to be alone or conversely, we will run away from vulnerability.Our attachment styles are rudimentary programs (created in response to childhood traumas) that have never been updated, never questioned and never externalized. We think they are us, but they are not. Second nature is not nature. We are the person in the jail cell, waiting to be free. We are the human that needs connection and safety, space and boundaries. We are the little kid inside who doesn’t notice how the fearful thoughts are not us, but an outdated program that has been protecting us since we were too young to know.We can thank these trauma responses because they helped us survive. And yet we must externalize them, to not identify as them. They are no longer helping. We must see them as a faulty security system: one variety locks down the estate every time the wind blows, the other convinces us to abandon the estate in search of safety. And like a real security system, they can be updated, replaced or removed. Since these trauma responses are second nature, we can learn to see past them. One of my life goals is to continue to do this work and to help others in their liberation from the vagaries of complex PTSD and childhood trauma.positivepsychology.com/attachment-theory/ This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

People are dynamic. But deeper, people are a collection of cells, of bacteria, of memories, of the genetics of their forebears. We are singular and we are collective. Together we make couples and families and neighborhoods. We are part of counties, states, nations and a planet. All of these collections of people are entities themselves. They have collective voices and desires, trajectories and destinies.As such, I say that these entities are organisms that need feeding and care. We neglect them at our peril. We can neglect the organisms by seeing ourselves as mere individuals, by not realizing that by feeding the entities of which we are a part, we nourish ourselves and each other in the process.So it's with that in mind, we see the effects we have on each other when we perceive the other by their limitations, or conversely, by their essence. When we bring a critical stance to those with whom we share affiliation, we can make it feel unsafe to continue forging a bond and co-creating the entity of a couple, a family, a business, a team. We can poison the well.Conversely, by believing in each other, we can assist those we care about in their metamorphosis and self-discovery. Our love and support can and does create seismic shifts in those we know, those who we take the time to affect for good. Those in whom we believe.It's under these circumstances that we can join together and create art and music, safety, and bonding. We can look back on key figures in our lives that, through their patience, tutelage, care and respect, helped us chart the far reaches of our undiscovered inner selves. These people helped us believe in ourselves, showed us who and what we are.That self-discovery is priceless. We can work alone in the peace and quiet of our inner sanctuaries, but we also discover ourselves through relation to others. Through that admixture with those who inspire us, who teach us, who demonstrate characteristics we wish to embody.We may look back and wonder who we would have been had they never come along. How would we find our way? How would our home-fires be burning if not for the painstaking work and patience of those who saw us when we were extinguished and offered us a light?We don't have to dwell there very long to feel immense gratitude. I look back and realize that I am who and what I am for my interactions with my heroes and friends and lovers and family. We only get the opportunity to shape others in this way when we fully humanize them. When we see them as dynamic and capable of becoming and fully embodying themselves.We may struggle to do this if we can't or don't see ourselves as worthy and capable of change and growth or love. We may look around and ask who believes or believed in us when we needed it and how that propelled us to grow and change in the past. Hopefully we can fully accept the belief of those who see beyond our faults. We have to let it sink in.And if we have been guilty of judging, blaming and criticizing those we care about, we must make amends. Especially when we discover that we truly do see their essence and that we adore that essence. The judging behavior can be a trauma response and a learned behavior. But we can replace this with acceptance. And our belief in them can assist their belief in self.We can also discover our grace, our reverence, and our patience. We can focus more on becoming than controlling and getting. And when we bring these discoveries to our relationships we potentiate the growth of all involved. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

As a nuanced thinker, I like to debunk false binaries. Memes can present us with false choices that can be socially divisive and easily falsifiable. Life is full of grey areas and context. And yet, sometimes binaries are appropriate.Two books have had an outsize effect on me: Power VS Force and Love is Letting Go of Fear. Both books about binaries written by men who wanted to help show people the way to love, joy, success and peace. I felt changed after reading both of them.Love is Letting Go of Fear states that we are in one of two states at all times: love or fear. This makes it simpler to navigate life. Am I motivated by love or fear? Is fear whispering in my ear? Am I trying to control or surrender? Even though there are only 2 choices, discerning the difference can be difficult. Fear can make a strong case, especially when we don’t see that it has infiltrated our capacity to make sense and distorted our discernment.Power Vs Force describes a spiritual ladder of emotions and feeling states, from low to high. It prescribes letting go of the lower levels, like hatred, fear, and anger, in order to ascend to the next highest level. A lesson may await at each level and once it is passed, we can ascend into a more and more positive experience. So it's spiritual ascension, but he's making the same point as Jampolsky in Love is Letting Go of Fear. He's saying we can either employ power, which is loving, accepting, giving, and patient, or we can employ force, which controls and demands. One goes up and one goes down.One book describes the mental-emotional states and their consequences in a self-help format. The other depicts an energetic presentation and the nature and experience of these options we have before us.I bring this up partly because I never noticed how these books were similar to each other and how they both affected me profoundly. I don't read much these days and maybe I'm missing some similar illumination. But the books and insights that help us navigate life are always available to be revisited and reaffirmed.I guess I caught myself wanting to control a scenario, to share the 'truth' with someone. I wanted to prescribe them medicine that they had not requested. I sense that the information is valid, but what was my motivation? What would the outcome have been had I shared it, impelled by my agenda? The answer is simple. I was motivated by fear. I wanted to 'force' the information, I wanted to control outcomes and serve my interests.So the information can be loving. We can be loving overall. But that's not enough. We have to catch ourselves. Our minds are usually playing tricks on us. These books remind us that we are becoming. We are projecting and radiating a state of consciousness out into the world. That's really where our power is, not in trying to control and manage events of which we may have merely a passing and provisional understanding.Recent events are showing me that I can focus more on the becoming than the getting. Or that becoming is the best way to get what we want and need. Let everyone else do what they will on their schedule. Allow for divine timing, or act as if. What I radiate, what I release, what I create, what I share---that's where my power resides.Anything else is forcing and is motivated by fear. It might work for a while. In our personal lives, we can attract instead of coerce. We can offer instead of convince. We can acquiesce and yet speak our truth. We can surrender in lieu of clutching.Today I choose to radiate what I want to see and feel in the world at large and with the people that I encounter. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Let that sink in. That phrase keeps coming to mind. I think we're so task-oriented that we move on to the next challenge or class, the next problem, the next fault. What we often forego is looking around and assessing with gratitude and admiration, the fruits of our labor. We might forget to take stock of what we just accomplished and how we've grown. If we did, we might notice that we slayed a dragon. We took risks and were rewarded.We may be acting as if we were the same person we were yesterday or last year. But we're not. We're in constant motion. We're learning, growing, opening, and that can be in stark contrast to our previous configuration. And yet game theory reminds us that we must trade out the rickety old sword and shield for the shiny ones we valiantly won in the last round as we eat the leg of mutton and drink the magic elixir. If we don't, we might just keep acting like those victories never occurred.We have to let it sink in. We must give ourselves and others credit where it's due. We must at least temporarily stop the search for faults and problems to solve because a victory lap is in order. Gratitude is hard enough to practice, but turning it toward oneself can bring up resistance.Not even just gratitude, but wonder, amazement. It's ok to look back and realize you didn't think you could do it but you did. A pattern is broken or interrupted. Realizations abound. Old curses are now lifted and a new sense of embodiment of our essence is unmistakable.And yet old habits die hard and other challenges await. We can be forgiven for our habit of rushing headlong into the next fracas with an urgency that believes we could solve all of our life's problems and still catch that spin class and pick the kids up from their grandmother's on time.Let us not forget that some amount of reorientation is needed and deserved. Watch all the victories sink in, through all the layers, the defenses, the armor and the resistance. Allow your newfound blessings to be relished, the soul parts welcomed home and absorbed back into the fold. Try your new powers on for size. You've earned it. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I always appreciated the idea of the soul fragment. It's easy to visualize. We then consider the notion that we experience traumatic events which dislodge soul fragments, which leave our energy body getting stuck in a place and time.Perhaps what we call stored 'trauma' is the cement that holds the remaining fragments together. It hardens and keeps the soul mirror from disintegrating, but perhaps also, from fully re-integrating.Perhaps grief fills the heart spaces that our lost loves, friends, and family members filled when they were available to us. Instead of cement we could envision the traumatic scaffolding as ice. As the love interest or friend approaches and the soul parts have an affinity, that creates warmth. The soul shards vibrate and dance and reach in anticipation for those of the other. The warmth creates melting, which would seem to threaten the stability of the structure of the soul mirror, as it were.This awakens the sleeping trauma, the sentinel. The trauma then does what it does. Maybe it attacks. Maybe it runs. Maybe it freezes or fawns. Perhaps it attacks, runs, freezes then fawns. I've seen it or done it. But always it mistakes the intention of the pure-hearted lover.I love every fuzzy animal. I have birdseed out for the birds and squirrels. I want nothing more than for a raccoon or a squirrel to eat from my hand. Then I could pet it, name it, put it in my pocket, build it a little house etc. It's just how I am.But that squirrel doesn't understand. His survival instincts tell him I want to eat him. And these crude instincts work--they keep him alive. And yet, they're absolutely wrong about my intentions. This is, in a nutshell (see what I did there?), trauma. It keeps us alive. But maybe only half-alive.And just like the squirrel, the trauma survivor sees the love interest resembling the narcissist that caused all the wounding. The compliments, the promises, the apparent empathy. This is the trauma employing pattern recognition and it can be a shortcut to, or a faulty means of discernment.And yet, if we probe deeper, the trauma does serve a function. It does hold the shambles of our weary souls together. The threat IS real. Not because the lover intends any threat, but because the frozen and crusty trauma glue is a provisional solution--often the best a scared kid’s subconscious could do in a pinch. It's not a workable long-term plan. This becomes all-too-evident as these lovers attempt to court or integrate their lives and the walls come up. We thought this person was the one that didn't/wouldn't illicit such responses, as if we had kissed enough frogs and now our Prince Charming had arrived at last. And then we feel even more broken.We vilify the other or ourselves or both. We blame, we draw the wrong inference. We see from the sentinel's guarded perspective. We dehumanize the other and traumatize them. Hurt people hurt people. We conclude that we might as well just withdraw.And I guess I bring this up, not to merely describe the human condition as it pertains to romantic love, but to offer that this moment where the warming occurs might be the most opportune place to start doing the work again in earnest. We can work on ourselves when alone, when not triggered. But when we are wide open and our defenses keep coming up, we see it in technicolor.We might seize the opportunity before us. This is our chance to release more of the provisional soul crust and to invite those alienated parts back into the fold. We can mirror this to our lover. We can assist the lover in their personal archaeology and/or be working on ourselves in parallel.Imagine the trust we could build. And yet, since love is giving, we may find ourselves in a situation where the only way to truly give that love is to not try with them. Not to reach out. Not to soothe or seek soothing. The only option we are given to be truly loving is to let go. No asking. No explaining.And it's in that place where we discover if we're capable of absolute altruism. And maybe that's where the most basic foundation of trust is built, in our acquiescence, however reluctant. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Not so long ago, the picture below was our national reality. And yet so many urge us to wash away these memories and to burn the books that tell stories that make certain people uncomfortable. Let's not learn about Tulsa. Let's not try for diversity, equity and inclusion in the workplace. Let's ship off those migrants to camps and back into harm's way in the nations they left out of necessity. Does this sound familiar?Black people won Civil Rights by being inconvenient, by being uppity. By demanding equality and paying heavy costs for those demands. See Emmitt Till. See how virulent racists still shoot up monuments to him to the point of the federal govt having to make a bullet-proof monument 70 years later.Hatred is alive and well. So we must be more alive, more present, more connected and more resilient. We must be allies to those who sadly still need them. Conversely, we get to decide what America will become (after the fever dream has been quelled) with our every choice and word.For me, America will be the place where we expand rights and protections outward until everyone is protected and honored. It will be a nation where speaking the truth is art and the ultimate act of bravery. Where fear doesn't win. Where hate goes to die.Further, it will be a place where the laws protect us and empower us. A free place where the power derives from the consent of the governed. And the leaders will know this, and they will see their job as one of service to the people. A place where businesses exist to profit, to pay taxes that feed the fertile ground on which they prosper, to employ people, and to provide a useful service or product. Not to extract wealth or dominate the people.A place where women can feel safe. Where the marginalized become the formerly marginalized. Where we can afford to live and rest and explore the world around us. Where animals have rights and forests abound. Where we honor the planet that sustains us. Where we have the freedom of religion and the freedom from religion. Where aboriginal people are honored.Much deception, thievery, mischief and sophistry stands between us and that vision. But we must embody that vision if we are to rise to the very real and immediate occasion. We were born for this.Let's look back on courageous leaders of the past for our inspiration and realize that our lives are fleeting. But we can make a real difference. And that difference may be the only echo that remains when our lives are over. We will NOT be returning to our regularly scheduled program.But we may be able to save our nation and make it that 'more perfect union' in the process. Death and rebirth. Here we are. What part will you play? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

The Song "Streets of Philadelphia' by Bruce Springsteen, popped into my head last night. The movie 'Philadelphia' came out a long time ago. I was a senior in high school. It was about an HIV-positive gay man and his interaction with a hostile society.What a different time that was. We were debating 'Don't Ask, Don't tell' in the military. That was Bill Clinton's effort to move the needle to the left in an administration and a general political zeitgeist that was moving to the right. Even his VP Al Gore wanted to put warning labels and ratings on CDs. Such was the mood of the nation. Even the liberals were conservative.Hollywood, via such movies, was able to shame us into caring about (in this case) gay people: humanizing them. Such was its bully pulpit at the time. That bully pulpit, that prestige, has all but vanished. Movies, tv, music and sports have always been political, whether we knew it or not.A conservative backlash has pulled the nation rightward since Nixon. Each GOP President since has been an overt attempt to undo Civil Rights and to facilitate the wealthy getting wealthier. Each Democratic President hasn't been far behind, with some window-dressing and the occasional assist to those marginalized.But the arts were pulling just as hard to the left: humanizing minorities, asking us to care, to feel, to empathize. To imagine the streets of East LA via the hard-hitting music of NWA. To humanize black people. To celebrate LGBTQ culture. To be grateful for what diversity has brought us. Showing us the historic and current plight of women.The arts and sports have been about subverting the power paradigm. And yet we find ourselves in a place where the cool kids are no longer in Hollywood. The heroes are the ultra-wealthy and the MAGA movement. They have a vice-grip, not only on all levers of power in Washington, but on the narrative that used to be provided by the arts.And as such, we are sorely lacking inspiration. Where is the national moral compass? We are missing the calls, the demands on us to feel the suffering of those who pick our food and clean our homes. No, now we are told to scorn them, to blame them. Round them up and all of our problems will go away.Cut all this supposed deep state government waste and we will be prosperous again. Slash all those safeguards that insulate so many from the ills of the corporate domination of every facet of our economy and society. Let’s blame the poor!It's a far cry from 1993, where we could be reached by a movie like 'Philadelphia.' A movie that asked, 'who are you? Are you your brother's keeper?' A movie that demanded that we not only humanize our brother but that reminded us that we revivify ourselves via our acknowledgment of the needs and frailties of these 'others' that those in power now want to eliminate.The left, via the media, is now a victim of its own success. So thoroughly have we embraced multiculturalism that a rage-filled backlash has swept the nation and threatens to wash away all the gains, all the protections and all shreds of mercy from our national institutions.The choice we have now is absolutely ludicrous. Only a Scrooge, a Mr Potter, would support the policies of the current regime. And yet half the nation did just that. They eat it up. And just like Scrooge, they are under a mind virus called Wetiko. This term was coined by Native Americans upon noticing the greed and malice of the European settlers.No amount of money is enough for Elon Musk or any of these oligarchs. Notice there are no Musk Cancer Centers. No Bezos homeless shelters. These men are absolutely under the spell of greed. And the dupes that follow them think they can amass more wealth, or at least not lose what they have if they follow this scorched earth regimen. Consequences be damned.And yet these are the scenarios where heroes emerge. This is where the arts become subversive again. Where they hold up a mirror and show us how ugly we've become. That's what 'Philadelphia' did. The TV character,Archie Bunker, was a stand-in for us. But so was Meathead. We just had to be shown the options. We had to be willing to be the fool, like Meathead and Gloria. To trust our guts and our hearts to lead us to right action.To fully embody our humanity, despite the ways that society glamours us and busies us with the toil of its wealth extraction games. We sit befuddled, divided and looking externally for a hero that was and is indwelling.With these posts I've tried to rouse the populace. It sure hasn't made me rich. But it has made me feel human. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I was musing about the 'con' in con-man lately. It's obviously short for confidence. The con-man sells you something false, empty or non-existent. We get glamoured by his confidence. We eat it up. He could sell us anything: snake oil, Trump Steaks, a degree from Trump University, we could donate to the Trump Foundation. But those were the wares he offered when he was merely a grifter on the economic stage. His power to promise (and fail to deliver) has multiplied and metastasized as he tasted actual political power when a plurality of voters actually chose him to lead our nation in 2016 and again in 2024.I keep hearing how 2025 is going to be better economically and I welcome this. While certain people don't want to talk politics, they allude to things getting better under Trump, even though this didn't bear out in his first term. And since Musk is signaling he won't let Trump tank the economy to please the racist whims of the base, I can only imagine it will be more of the same tough talk and empty promises. Clearly the ultra-wealthy run Trump and prefer the policies of Biden so we will have more Neo-liberalism sprinkled with Trump's attempts to tear down entitlements and the regulatory state. Doing so would further assist the oligarchs in their relentless extraction of wealth from every crack and crevice of the economy.But what the common Trump voter wants is a quick fix of confidence: a reason to trust that the economy will be ok, even as they vote against their interests. And to that extent, Trump has delivered. Even if his collection of promises is a cesspool of hate and bluster, lies and bad ideas. Because they voted for the dictionary definition of the Anti-Christ.And who could have been more of a polar opposite of Donald Trump, you ask? A true Christian, a tireless worker, devoted husband and family man, a soldier, a farmer, a nuclear engineer, and an honest man. That man was former President Jimmy Carter.Carter died recently. I was discussing his life and Presidency with some friends at the gym and came to the conclusion that the narrative around his Presidency was as negatively mythologized as Reagan's was falsely inflated. I watched a speech where Carter spoke of a 'Crisis of Confidence.'It was an interesting speech to watch and read all these 48 years later. An honest man shared what his constituents had told him about the economy, energy crisis and inflation, high interest rates and the Iran hostages. He spoke candidly to a weary populace: a nation reeling in the wake of Watergate and Viet Nam where we lost almost 60,000 soldiers and killed more than 2 million in Southeast Asia. Our nation was lost in a morass of political corruption, endless war and economic stagnation. A nation that had lost its innocence in the 60s was losing its trust that our government could shepherd us through a changing economic landscape. The economies that had been destroyed in WW2 were catching up to us and we didn't have an answer. Gas lines and high interest rates made the formerly prosperous Middle Class suffer.A deeper dive into the complexities of the economics and politics that informed Carter's Presidency is needed. But the more I read and listen, his one term in office sounds suspiciously like some other Presidents in my memory: a good man comes to power with idealism and gradually becomes a pawn of Neo-liberalism. Carter had his share of decisions that created major blow-back. Later presidents would double down on these errors and further destabilize the Middle East, South America and beyond.Carter was a good man who came to power in tough times and was, perhaps, not a great leader. He was too honest, too serious and scolding. Too ethical to rouse the populace with false promises. He had zero guile. He placed too much trust in certain advisors, with devastating consequences. He couldn't inspire American citizens to trust that the economy would turn around so they left him for a man who told them what they wanted to hear. This was another con-man. Proto-Trump. Grampa. A wolf in sheep's clothing.His name was Ronald Reagan. He was a far better orator than Carter and it showed in their one debate. Reagan had an answer for everything Carter threw his way. He had a firm grip on the narrative; It was absolute horse-s**t, but it sounded good. And it felt good to be American again. And it inspired confidence in our exceptionalism. Reagan reinvigorated our mythological frame of reference via the slogan, ‘A shining City on the Hill.’ He gave them something to believe in, even if his prescriptions wouldn't actually take us there. Compare this slogan to ‘Make America Great Again.’ Notice how the tone and imagery change to the mythic, the heroic. Consider what often follows when the populace is roused in such a way.Reagan made our nation's key issues worse: higher taxes for the middle class with the wealth gap exploding, deregulation of key industries, the dismantling of the labor movement, arcane drug laws and mass incarceration. But he used pageantry to pretend he single-handedly tore down the Berlin Wall. He managed his image quite well. When he was caught selling arms to Iran with drug money from Central America, he 'didn't recall.’ A B-movie Hollywood actor finally found the role that he could portray effectively: a grandfatherly anti-Communist moralist who could blame the ills of our manufacturing collapse on 'welfare queens' and the 'gay lifestyle.' And when it was time for accountability, he was a dottering old man with memory issues. Can you feel my love for Reagan? Me neither.Fast forward 50 years and we have an economy that works for the very few. Regular people have legitimate financial concerns about affordability, employment, health care, retirement and so on. But a new con-man has them believing the previous administration is corrupt and feckless when it was a successful administration, by and large, even if the prosperity didn't reach the middle and lower rungs of the workforce substantially enough. At least that administration fixed our roads and bridges and lowered drug prices and addressed many glaring issues that have been piling up since the collective malfeasance of Reagan and Nixon and the Bushes.Trump has them convinced the economy will get better despite high tariffs and migrant camps and other terrible policies. But attaining their confidence was the point. The demagogue first distorts and decries the ills of the status quo to varying degrees of accuracy. He then sells the solution: himself. He peddles a fantasy to the people. A people so fully disillusioned about the American government and their shot at a good life that they would support a criminal failed casino-owning wanna-be autocrat. Such is the disconnect from reason, such is the desperation.I'm sensing that each President ends up being the mouthpiece for Neo-liberalism and the big international businesses that it serves. And Carter just couldn't do that effectively. It wasn't in his character. It's easy to be the pitch-man when things are going well for the average Joe. But those days are gone.The Robber Barons have gotten insidiously more greedy and vastly more wealthy. Yet we are more aware of the ways in which they're fleecing us. So the Bread and Circuses have, by necessity, become all the more convoluted, soap-operatic, racist, captivating and surreal.Trump wears so many ill-fitting hats: the savior, carnival barker, culture warrior, economic guru, and, spiritual leader and somehow, this laughably false anti-establishment elite that is surrounded by ultra-wealthy elites. He himself is a billionaire elite from New York who inherited $400 million from his father.In a sense, I guess it's our elites versus your elites. The left has their mega-donors too. May the best cabal of money hoarders win.And these wealth addicts are all Riding the Tiger. How long will Trump bear the humiliation of Musk dictating policy to him via Twitter takedowns and tantrums? Does he go full Putin and start throwing them in the Gulag?Remember when he was the only candidate that didn't need big business donors? When he wasn't taking a paycheck and that meant he was incorruptible? I guess those days are gone.I guess he just needed to sell his bumpkin base that he would implement the racist policies that they wanted in order to win a majority for Musk, who lives off the government. How boring.And what will the people do when they realize they've been duped? Trump may prove to be just another politician, posing as a fascist populist. But they really wanted an authoritarian ethno-state. Maybe the Civil War comes when Trump can't or won’t deliver. The plot thickens. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Thanks for opening this email. Please enjoy my writing and consider supporting me in any of the following ways: like, subscribe, share, comment and consider being a paid subscriber at $5 per month. It helps!I can listen to a podcast and ruminate about a happenstance and then a salient insight comes up and ties these disparate events together . I then run over to the computer to save and plant and create an essay to do justice to this insight---one that has been expressed but bears repeating.We are in the wake of an unfortunate but inevitable election result. One of the many themes of the victor was dehumanization. The scapegoat must be dehumanized in order to galvanize the base and persuade moderate voters to be afraid. This worked. The migrants are vermin, poisoning the blood. The trans people are taking over your bathroom. The godless liberals are trying to brainwash your kids. Kamala is a Communist. And on and on.But we libs can dehumanize too. This is a human trait that was cultivated by Trump though he didn't invent it.So when searching out the ways in which a humanist dehumanizes, one must search openly. It's easy for a liberal to humanize those less fortunate, the marginalized. But it's hard to humanize those who violate our laws, our norms, those who act against their own interests. Nations who cause harm and escalate conflict.And we should reject the actions of rogue nations and their leaders. We should judge those who voted against humanity. We should blame Netanyahu for ethnic cleansing. Those actions are abominable. But the core need, want, fear, desire---now that's a different subject.Each human, each animal, each nation, each company are legitimate. Their needs are legitimate. They may act wrong, but the impulse to serve oneself is not wrong. We must find a way to see this distinction, to not muddy the waters between the act and the core needs of the actor. Between the crime and the urge to protect oneself, one's family, one's interests. Because that urge is valid. And that human or that entity is as well. He, she or it may be acting unethically in service of that valid impulse, that drive to survive. This drive unites us all.In a sick world we must realize that many will misunderstand the urgings of that drive. They will kill, harm, maim, steal, mislead, manipulate for selfish ends. We must bring accountability to those who do wrong. But we must also honor that the urge to survive is innate. Every person has been wronged. So has every nation.It's so easy to use the past to justify future wrongs. We must use restraint to not join in the folly of perpetual war, endless revenge and endless vilification of those who have done harm.How do we break the cycle on the micro and macro scale? I don't have those answers. But I do have one insight to share today today. To re-humanize everyone and every nation and every entity. Not to look the other way on crimes. Not to absolve anyone. Just to come back to the basic knowledge that they deserve to exist. They deserve to fight for themselves. They have been wronged. Whoever wronged them was also wronged.This not only rehumanizes them, but us as well. We are not human when we do not honor the humanity in every other person. And we must see nations and governments and businesses as collections of humans, even when they are inhumane in their dealings.Those human groupings act in destructive ways so we must hold them accountable. But I must search deep within myself to ask why they do harm. The answer is always, because they think it will make them secure. They may be wrong. They may have lost access to their individual or collective humanity. They may have done unspeakable acts. And we must humanize them anyway.Because if we don't then we become them: in little yet insidious ways. We can then rationalize hating a group or a nation or a friend who voted this way or that. Or for an abusive person or a criminal. Or someone who lives differently.Criminals may be held in prison, but still get visitors and meals and clothes. Because they’re still human.Humanizing everyone is an inside game. And yet we are bombarded with messages telling us to dehumanize whole swaths of our nation and our world. We dehumanize the other side for dehumanizing the marginalized. We must recognize this and decide to stop this at the only place we have power: within ourselves. We can and should be intolerant of intolerance, but still humanize those who will not return the favor.Proclaim to yourself, your friends, your family, your church, your lover, your children and everyone else that you won't do this anymore. We can choose to humanize others because their essence is human and deserving. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I don't remember where I learned the term, but it stuck with me: probably an English or Film class. This morning as I awoke, the term 'suspension of disbelief' came to me.  I'm sure it's in part because I have been watching Marvel Movies lately.  I was imagining Iron Man and thinking how silly it was that we could see him inside his suit.  It doesn't make sense, but that's where we have to suspend disbelief.We have to turn off or at least turn down this hyper-critical, analytical voice long enough to give the story-teller time to weave his tale.  Time to create the backdrop and build the world, to set the stage.  To invite us in and show us the stakes, the risks and the rewards, to introduce us to the characters.And if the story-teller is any good, it's relatively easy to stay there, spellbound by the scenery, the dialogue, the high drama and the mirror that the narrative holds up to our lives.  Especially when you're watching a movie where characters can fly and do magic, you have to pretend for a while.  It's easy too because we all wish we could zap the bad guys or have super strength.We are kids again, imagining ourselves as powerful but seeing it played out on the silver screen instead of the screen of our imagination.  And there's the rub.  We are so screen-oriented that I wonder if we can imagine anymore. The screens curate our imagination.I have stopped reading books and seldom meditate anymore.  I used to be able to do basic shamanic journeying but now struggle with that as screen addiction seems to have taken its toll on my eyes and my mind's eye.So I keep refusing to imagine for myself.  Day-dreaming is one way, imagining what I want.  Another type of imagining occurs when going to sleep and it reminds me of the journeying piece.  Can we let our minds dream?  Can I turn off the noise and screens enough to let my inner voice speak?  My inner story-teller wants to show me images.  Maybe they don't all make sense.  Maybe it's just churning out imagery.  It's an inner landscape that I want to familiarize myself with, despite its shifting sands and disjointed timelines.And just like with movies and plays and novels, again we need to suspend disbelief.  This is not the arena of the ego-mind, of the thinker, the scientist, the skeptic, the guardian.  This is the dreaming self, where truth is revealed in a different language: the language of visions and dreams and symbols and archetypes.But I say we don't even need to worry about interpretations and journeys and all that choreography.  We need to be willing to just sit and watch the movie.  To welcome the inner storyteller.  To prime the pump and wait for it to catch.  To re-enter our overgrown and unkempt inner world.  To inhabit ourselves.And when this inner world revivifies, it may show us and remind us who we really are and how we may have transgressed against ourselves and our ideals.  How we have turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to our calling.  And this may be what's behind a deep agony and the existential dread that we so easily externalize in such confounding times.But maybe these times are an expression of billions of individuals turning away from their truth, their inner worlds and seeking solace in false messiahs and empty enterprises.  Synthetic hive minds distract us from the inner-net that we have access to but for which few of us have an owner’s manual.So disconnected are we from our aboriginal roots and the activities that edified and cradled the individual within a framework of meaning and connection that we knowingly follow false charismatic charlatans.  We laugh at and silence that calm, still voice.  We destroy our home and its capacity to house us.Unquestioned nihilism is so much easier than being curious and risking being a fool.  But that's where we must find our courage and choose a different path.  We must go within.  An old friend who I miss dearly would say, "You gotta get in to get out.'  I see it now.Thus, again, we must suspend our disbelief.  We must be willing to listen to a different story, one where we are empowered to change our course, our decisions.  Where we seek answers from within.  Where we control what we actually can: our attitudes, our plans, our thoughts, and our inner dialogue.We may not be able to put out the forest fires that rage across the planet.  We may not be able to stop the desertification on the outside.  But on the inside we can and must.  We start by suspending disbelief.  Because the ego-mind is a great detective, a great protector, but a cruel master and the worst storyteller. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Hello and thanks for reading and subscribing. I’m sorry for the recent delay in articles. I’ve kept busy and have more articles to come. Please consider being a $5 per month paid subscriber as this helps. Please like, comment and share 8)After watching Avengers End Game, some good insights came up. One is that mythology can inspire us.  Another, that these movies have amazing casting.  All the best actors in Hollywood are in the Marvel movies.  Sci/fi fantasy used to have b list actors and you could feel the difference.  Another insight was that the theme of time-travel is fun and allows the character to consider his/her life in a different way.It was fun to see how traveling back in time affected each character.  Some got to visit a parent or lover.  Some suffered deep loss in order to do what is right.  Others made the ultimate sacrifice.  Some found their purpose or a missing piece.But for each character, you could see how the events of this movie (and all the other movies they appeared in) changed them, developed them, broke them, healed them, polished them and revealed their true nature and character.  This is why we watch.  This is why we pay money and expend our precious time to sit still long enough to experience this modern take on the ancient undertaking of mythology. We see characters develop and grow and learn and feel and grieve.  We see ourselves in the most heroic and tragic of grand stages.  We see our lives mythologized.  We see our struggles in the toil of these heroes.  We see these others, these foils, experience our pain at the loss of love.  We learn to recontextualize our lives as we watch our heroes do so.Tangent: I also enjoyed how male and female characters were friends with each other. It was not always about sex and sexuality. They were friends because they fought and risked together. They supported each other. Their looks or their sexuality weren't avoided, but the characters were not overly sexualized. Or, in the case of Black Widow, her attractiveness was used as a weapon on unsuspecting enemies. Everyone was humanized.We can find all sorts of fault with Marvel or modern movies and Hollywood.  But we must give credit where credit is due.  The Avengers franchise especially has been amazing.  These movies are hilarious.  The actors are exceptional.  The movies constantly make fun of themselves.  The writing is mostly flawless.   The stories are captivating.  But all this really works because of character development.We come to know these characters for their changes, their struggles, the flaws and their growth.  And we see growth and progress and self-exploration as worthy goals because we see our heroes do so.  We learn by example.  A person could do a lot worse than watching the Avengers movies for inspiration.But however you find it, please consider letting literature, movies, books, fantasy, mythology, history or some artistic creation inspire you.  Let this art turn off your world for a couple of hours.  Escape into fantasy.  Not this social media trance.  Let a story captivate you.  Let the struggles of titans break you out of the humdrum.  Slip out of the dread, the demands, the sleep-walking.  I promise, you'll walk out of the theater emboldened. Story-telling is an ancient tool to help us embrace the mystery and link ourselves to our tribe, our community, our family and our ancestors.  Most of us don't live in villages anymore.  We don't know who we are.  We don't know why we're here.  But we can find out.  We can begin the search anew. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

As always, thanks for reading my posts. If you enjoy them, please: like, subscribe, comment, share and consider being a paid subscriber for $5 a month. It helps me and affords you a recorded version of the writing for your convenience.This essay was a Facebook post I wrote in 2022.  I’ve been meaning to discuss the idea and figured this would be a worthy foray into the subject.I see friends and family who have capitulated.  I notice public figures, once intellectually rigorous, who have fallen into charlatanism.  I see people give in and live small lives.  I wonder what's at hand when people acquiesce to the destructive forces of cynicism, of deception and of despair.I know that I feel a sense of mounting dread at the collision-course upon which we find ourselves concerning all our cultural systems: politics, society, the environment, and the economy.  Personally, I dread a microcosm of said issues internally as well. Many of us do. We have our finances, our relationships, health and meaning to contend with.Any one of these internal or external calamities are enough to make one hide under the bed.  The amalgamation of all of them at once can be too much to bear. As within, so without. As individuals, as a nation and as a planet, we are struggling.But this all gets magnified by a non-stop disinformation campaign. For 10 years, a news outlet fused with a political movement pushes all those buttons to the point of madness, then offers a convenient cast of scapegoats and a Messiah to save us from all the problems they constantly portray.  "Only I can solve this problem" is a very alluring statement.  It's utter hogwash, but it must be fun to bask in the fantasy.   As our existence becomes more and more maddening, the urge to escape into such a fantasy grows. For some individuals, this urge must be satiated.  Like giving into an addiction.  This is capitulating. And just like an addiction, one eventually realizes they have been had, but are now fully invested in putting off the crash and the hangover, trying to ride the high that is quickly becoming a low.When one capitulates he/she stops fighting, stops resisting, stops using critical thinking as bulwarks against these urges.  He/she gives in to the massive and insidious psy-ops program being used against them.  The more people who are lost to the propaganda, the more they feel safe in their numbers. It’s like a see-saw. A battle for what is real.Remember: a whole nation of Germans capitulated to disastrous results.  The lesson?  We sometimes even acquiesce to genocidal killers, as long as they provide us with a suitable cover story, a narrative that rationalizes the inevitable killing of the scapegoats.  A story where we can believe in our nation again, and can see ourselves as an important cog in the wheel of its rejuvenation, its purification and inoculation.Most of us have so much trauma that we are easy marks for this manipulation.  We just want the pain to stop.  I see the scapegoats as a ready-made stand-in for that family member who hurt us, for the lover who betrayed us and on and on.  It's our brokenness that so wants to heal via the fantasy of and affiliation with the movement.  The microcosm of our inner sickness, healed via the macrocosm of the nation defeating its supposed foes, internal and external.Maybe the best medicine against this experiment is to not capitulate in our personal lives.  To communicate what we need.  To rest.  To call that old friend.  To believe we can have joy.  To face the issues we want to hide from.  To take political action.  To rediscover who we are and what our purpose is.  To reach others with the medicine that is our authenticity.  To laugh again.  To join our hearts with others in a hug.  To be truly accountable to ourselves and others.  To demand it from those around us.  To grow up.Maybe then we won't be so susceptible to the soap operatic yarns being sewn and thrown at us via the 24 hour news cycle and the politician who uses it to his ends and at our peril.There is still time.  There is still hope.And those who have capitulate may always come back.Let's all search ourselves for how we capitulate and how, in some ways, we may have capitulated long ago. If so, we can and must stand up again. This is the part of the movie where the hero rouses the complacent. What follows is uncertain. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Thank you for reading and/or listening to my personal take on the issues of the day. If you enjoy these, please like, subscribe, share and consider being a paid subscriber at $5 per month. It makes a difference 8)I wrote a few years back about racism. There I made a seemingly pedantic distinction between racists and people who are racist. I argued that some people may hold racist beliefs, but do not act on them. They could be described as racist. But people who define themselves this way and act as such, could be called racists. These are subtle yet important nuances.Similarly, I see the idea of corruption as needing a closer inspection.As we see more and more institutions across the globe lose credibility due to accusations of corruption, it's easy to cynically believe that everyone and everything on the planet is corrupt by nature. From religious institutions to federal state and local governments, businesses, sports leagues, and courts, we have seen serious accusations sully the names of our formerly most trusted institutions. At such times, we are prone to follow and empower demagogues who would gain and consolidate power by focusing our attention on this corruption. What demagogues never tell us is that they are even worse and will not solve the issues they bemoan. They seek only power and are usually running from accountability for their illegal and immoral actions.But witnessing the corrupting of our institutions in real time (often by the demagogue) shows us distinction and nuance. We see these institutions being poisoned in real time by monied interests as opposed to being corrupt by nature. This is a subtle yet profound distinction. Consequently, would-be autocrats use demagoguery to influence us to believe that all politicians and all institutions are corrupt by nature. This is sleight of hand. This is designed to muddy the waters because they themselves are seeking power by corrupt means and for nefarious purposes.So if we come to believe that everyone and everything is corrupt, we’ll feel overwhelmed, give up and look for the strongest among the criminals to lead us. Guess who that would be? Especially when other nations have an autocrat, we can capitulate to our own strong man and stand behind him as he supposedly champions us against these others. And a global domino effect can ensue. This is the ultimate nightmare scenario: a cascade into a scheme where mafia bosses carve up the world into spheres of influence for the sake of each dictator/don. We already have such bosses in China, Russia, North Korea, Iran, Hungary, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia.An example of real-time corruption and disintegration of public trust is the current US Supreme Court. I had never thought of the Supreme Court as a corrupt institution. I thought they made some bad decisions at times, but I blamed that on an ideologue or two swaying enough members to vote in their favor. I always believed that these men and women were making their decisions in good faith. I certainly never thought of these men and women as overt partisans until recently.Recent decisions like: Citizens United, the Chevron doctrine, overturning Roe V Wade and the eye-popping presidential immunity decision, among others, has many of us taking notice. Hearing of Justice Thomas’ $4 million windfall from a wealthy conservative donor with business before the court and connections to the Justice’s wife and her non-profit would be the scandal of the century in less momentous times. Justice Alito’s flag debacle, the Chief Justice refusing to meet with Congress or the White House and still other strange decisions have led many to dig deeper and learn about the Court and its history.The implications of these events and circumstances are staggering. They are unwelcome and present grave danger to our nation and our way of life. But the silver lining in the dark clouds of this gathering storm is that we can see the corruption of our highest court happening in real time. We see the court being corrupted before our eyes: the big moneyed interests bribing a Supreme Court Justice. The Justice is now beholden to his rich benefactor. He refuses to recuse himself for cases where there is an obvious conflict of interest. The other Justice who is so partisan that he flies flags of insurrection at his home, not even feigning impartiality. This is uncharted territory.But seeing this happen puts the lie to the idea that this institution is just corrupt old white men doing what they will. We must remember our history. The Supreme Court is the same institution that ruled to desegregate schools under the Warren Court in 1954’s Brown vs Board of Education decision. This decision fueled the Civil Rights Movement which effectively toppled Jim Crow Laws across the South in the 50s and 60s.But those who would corrupt our courts, our Congress and our Presidency will continue to do so by bribing these politicians with money, prestige and influence. Thus, we can and must reform our Supreme Court with a code of ethics, potential term limits, and other measures. We are a nation with a long and strong history of reform. We can do this. We must. But we can only succeed if we start with the basic belief that our nation, our government, our society and our institutions are salvageable.To believe otherwise is to capitulate to the demagogue and his bleak view of our civilization, our institutions and by extension, his view of us. Let’s remember that our government and institutions are just a collection of us. We hire these people to represent us, to serve us, to stand for us. If they are corrupt, if they are broken, then so are we. I reject that notion wholeheartedly.We are easily fooled. We are motivated by self-interest, yes. But we also feed homeless people. And we take in stray animals. And we forgive. We plant crops to feed each other. We reach out to former enemies. We risk our lives in service of ideals. We are not our lowest drives, even if there are those who would convince us otherwise.Beware those who would convince you of the fallen nature of our institutions. At the core of this argument is a dagger pointed at your heart. It whispers disempowering lies. But we have agency and can develop discernment. We can rehabilitate our view of ourselves and our brothers and sisters by right action. We can and must believe in our good nature but more importantly, in our ability to change and grow and rise to the occasion.The occasion has arrived. What will you do with it? This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Racism has been defeated in key battles in US history, but the war seemingly never ends.  The Civil War was a pre-action to Lincoln’s presidency, where the South believed Lincoln would free the enslaved people.  So Confederacy attacked first. The North eventually won and over 600,000 Americans died.  This was a gigantic backlash to the idea of expanding rights and freedoms to a minority group that had no rights in a nation that prided itself on the promise of such rights.We outlawed slavery, but the backlash of lynchings, the KKK and Jim Crow laws were soon to follow.  Improvement, sure.  Freedom, technically, but still abject murderous sanctioned terror.   Then black leaders fought and died for Civil Rights and these laws more fully enfranchised black citizens. But we can’t leave out the racist Governors blocking school entrances and church bombings and Emmett Till.   Despite racism surviving to this day, barriers have been valiantly removed, however gradually.  Police violence has been addressed with body cams.  We move forward as a result of addressing racism. And yet racism goes underground to reemerge later with certain catalysts. More on that later.We have progressed so dramatically since our inception that it is that it's no longer acceptable to use racist language and to discriminate.  And yet, the hatred and racism that have animated so much of our history remains, suppressed, waiting for opportunistic public figures to use this force to animate their purposes.You can't say the N-word, so our former President uses dog-whistle statements to signal to his racist and closet-racist followers that he too doesn't want a black woman President. He uses stochastic terrorism instead of lynch mobs.He created Birtherism,questioning Obama's citizenship all those years ago.  Because they can't say the N-word.  And he can't terrorize them with the KKK.  So he uses the only tool available, innuendo. He questions her identity.  He makes up this farce about her 'becoming' black.  Because he can't debate her on policy.   He doesn't have her breadth of experience or her Juris Doctorate degree.  So these are the tools he uses to manipulate the base into being angry and staying animated about the election.  Because this is what he does.  Because racism and grievance fuel his candidacy.Interestingly, Trump seems to both stoke and provide an outlet for this racist energy.  He is the catalyst for racism as much as any leader we've had.  As much as David Duke.  At least Duke admitted he was a KKK member. Racism at times seems to be hanging by a thread and yet an agitator like Trump feeds it and its purveyors.   The neo-Nazis, the white supremacist gangs, the attack on the Capitol, Birtherism, the Central Park 5, Charlottesville, ‘stand back and stand by’: these are the bullet points of Trump's disgusting legacy of hate, his perpetuation of racist stereotypes and his using racism for notoriety and for the furtherance of his political goals.He is the backlash to racial progress embodied.  He is the David Duke of our time, just dressed as PT Barnum.  His is the Neo-Confederacy and it is such a Lost Cause.  We will not go backward.  And yet racism dies hard.  Maybe because grievance dies hard.  What is it that keeps these resentments alive?  What makes people gather together against another group?  What makes them believe lies and misinformation?  What makes that enterprise entertaining and sustaining?  How is it that people gain identity by hating another group? Are these the vagaries of an atomized modernity with its technological trappings?I keep saying we are progressing, and yet it appears racism isn't going anywhere.  Neither are sexism, homophobia or transphobia.Conversely,Obama's inauguration and Presidency were among the major cultural moments of our history, regardless of the scorecard one might give his policies.  Profoundly, Obama became President of a nation where black men and women were once enslaved and owned.  Our culture changed that day, if in subtle ways. And yet those same seeds of progress were the impetus for a tremendous and destructive backlash that culminated in a Trump presidency and the violent attempt to overturn an election by a would-be dictator.Soon, I believe we will have a female black president.  I wonder if this event, added to the Obama Presidency will start a process by which we clear this racist angst.  Will we become colorblind via exposure therapy, as it were?  Will she have an effective presidency and lead us to devalue our racism and sexism?  Will hearts and minds change?  Will she address the underlying economic issues that have people feeling vulnerable?Or do these isms die hard because they hijack our Amygdala, which doesn't get enough exercise fighting bears and Neanderthals?  I can't say.  But I sadly see racism as a thread that stretches back to before our nation's inception and seems to always have more left on the spool, despite our best efforts.  And yet, we progress. This is a public episode. 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“A vote is a kind of prayer about the kind of world you want to live in,”  said Senator and Reverend Raphael Warnock.With so much cynicism and disinformation, it's easy to want to sit out politics.  That's where this quote from Reverend Warnock finds us.  Teetering on the edge of a cliff.  The demagogic dreamweaver would have us believe we are in a nightmare that only he can wake us from.  And yet the opposite is true.  We have problems and a system that needs attention and revision.  But the fantasy that he peddles is barren.  Women have already lost bodily autonomy because of his bogus Supreme Court picks.  He would not honor our treaties and alliances.  His Project 2025 would dismantle our institutions.  His election would be the last.  He has said so himself.  We would no longer be free.  Can you believe we are even discussing this?My vote, my prayer for the kind of world I want to live in, will be for the Harris Walz ticket, obviously.  I want to live in a world where a brown woman can be President.  Where her opponent doesn't make veiled racial slurs about her.  A world where our soldiers and their resting places are not dishonored for cheap commercials.I want our nation to be that shining city on the hill, even if those who spoke of it as such have torn at its very foundations.We are absolutely a beacon for the world.  And in saying so, I admit we have so much room for improvement in our treatment of other nations and their citizens and our own.  But we are the grand experiment.  What happens when people rule themselves?  What happens when we reject monarchy?  What happens when the promises of a nation's founding documents do not match up with its treatment of its inhabitants?  What happens when people-power overcomes hatred and freedom expands?I'll tell you what happens.A backlash of epic proportion. You and I are in the eye of that hurricane.It seems like a regular election approaches, with two candidates that have competing visions.  Taxes, foreign policy, and all the boxers/briefs filigree of a typical election year.  Business as usual.  Both sides.  Doesn't affect me.  Coastal elites and all that Jazz.But nothing could be further from the truth.  We have the most stark contrast since our revolution.  That choice was self-rule vs taxation without representation from a distant and stilted monarchy.  All give and no take.  And so our forefathers rebelled.  They could no longer stand the hypocrisy and risked everything and became David against the most mighty of Goliaths. For over a decade these brave men and women, shoeless and ill-equipped fought against the strongest military in the world.  And they prevailed against all odds.  They did this for us.  So that we could be free to choose the course of our nation and our lives within it.  So that we may taste freedom and autonomy on a scale never experienced in the world to that date.  So that we could later free enslaved people and enfranchise women to the point that one could be our next elected leader.  Just 250 years after our unlikely inception.What a story and what a prayer they made when they chose sacrifice over conformity.  When they chose nobility over subjugation.  When they chose to embody the high ideals of the Enlightenment authors that informed their consciousnesses.  When they drew a line in the sand and said, "No more," and were willing to fight and die for it.  That was Patriotism.And just 250 years later, we take this epic blessing on our lives for granted.  So many of us would piss it away in service of petty grievance and opportunism.  And this is the natural by-product of freedom: complacency, intellectual laziness, nihlism.  But so is re-awakening.We have 2 choices.  We can wait until we are no longer free and reawaken.  We can create an underground resistance movement that battles the dictatorship for decades and hopefully, one day, reclaims power and re-establishes a democratic republic. Or we can wake up now and do whatever it takes to keep this nightmare scenario from taking place.  Luckily, we don't have to pick up arms against our brothers and sisters.  We don't have to hate anyone.  We don't have to ship off to a foreign shore to die in battle.  We just have to vote.Just vote.  Maybe tell someone else to vote.  Tell them how it's a prayer for the kind of world they want to live in.  Tell them they matter and that their voice matters.  Tell them it's not too late. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I keep seeing political signs and Facebook posts saying, ‘We won’t go back.’  I say Amen to that.  But the fact that we have the luxury of looking in the rear view mirror at a 1 term Trump administration may be our saving grace, in the long run.  Most autocrats win the election and then gradually consolidate power until that power is absolute.  Then they either go to war, start a reign of terror, or do both.  But we were spared some of the consolidating power part because Trump lost and his attempts to hold onto power via the January 6th riot on the Capitol, coupled with the fake electors schemes, didn’t work.The most unlikely hero in US history, Mike Pence, stood up to the angry mob and the man who spurred them on.  The man who tried to have him killed.  The former President and convicted felon, Donald Trump. The Republican nominee for President in 2024.So he left power, however unwillingly.  And we got a needed reprieve.  We had time for Congressional hearings and federal and state grand juries and charges and even some convictions.  And yet the current race is still neck and neck.  The Biden administration had a pretty good record and still we are hoping to barely beat back this fascist onslaught.  And if we do, it will be partly due to the break and the juxtaposition of a hopeful and positive message after a decade of manufactured division.Donald Trump has dominated our culture for the last 10 years in a way no person has done in our nation’s history.  Even FDR with his 12 years in office and sweeping New Deal legislation, WW2 heroism and fireside chats didn’t reshape the culture as much, though he did shape our nation for the better.After 10 years, I think most of us are as sick and tired of Trump as is possible.  But if he had won in 2020 or held onto power, we would not be in a position to do anything about it.  We’d be in a de facto dictatorship.  We’d be watching Trump consolidate power as he rationalized increasingly draconian punishments for his detractors.  But we got lucky.  He lost and his attempts to hold onto power were thwarted.  You’d think with a second opportunity, they will figure out how to do it right. And they just might.So especially with VP Harris now leading the ticket, we see a vibrant alternative to this darkness.  We see how a bully acts when he doesn’t think he can win.  We hear his ramblings, his threats, fear-mongering.  And it just doesn’t land.  Because we’ve seen this act before.Most nations in the throes of an attempted authoritarian takeover don’t get this window.  We get to revisit the question, thankfully.We get to watch the bloom fade from Trump’s speeches.  We get to watch as a tyrant and a criminal mind keeps racking up more crimes, more hate speech, more calls to violence.  And it will never end until he is held accountable.  And other opportunists will pop up until they see him held to account.  Such is the desire for so many willing imbeciles to lick boots.  Such is the fascination with macho bread and circuses.  Such is the emptiness of late-stage capitalism and a taken-for-granted democracy.Such is the hollow soullessness that sees no goal worth fighting for, sacrificing for.  Better to watch it all burn and warm one’s hands by the fire. But we get the chance to side-step all that.  Perhaps it is our institutions that saved us.  Maybe it’s those courageous Republicans who worked in the Trump administration and spoke up, who said no to the angry mob.  Those who got their own attorney and changed their testimony.  Those who tanked their own promising careers to co-chair the January 6th committee.  Because it was right.  Honorable.  American. I thank everyone who has been courageous in the face of fear and threats and actual violence.  And we’re not even there yet.  We haven’t won the popular vote yet.  We don’t have the electoral college votes yet.  We haven’t gotten past the certification hurdles that will inevitably arise.  But we have hope.  Because we are getting the opportunity to revisit the question, “Do we want to be a free people?”  We are lucky to be a still free people.  We take that status lightly at our own peril. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Often my focus in writing is about digging into an issue and finding the intellectual flaw that holds it together.   Usually ideas come in the form of insight where I get an ‘aha’ moment and I see the error of a particular stance or the misleading message from a propaganda network.  Other times I may be describing an experience with a person where I notice poor argumentation.Fallacies, biases, manipulations, denial and other psychological phenomena are the nuts and bolts of misunderstanding and the distortion of reality.  This is the stuff of propaganda.  Most people who unwittingly spread propaganda don’t recognize it as such.  We are often unwittingly arguing, debating and believing distortions like these.  Most people are unaware that such tricks of the mind exist.  And those who know of them usually can’t spot them or catch themselves or others using them in a statement in real time.So, in short, I’m saying everyone is full of s**t.  This raises deep and important questions:How do we get tricked or trick ourselves?  Can we learn to think more clearly?How can we recognize and decode and inoculate ourselves from propaganda?Could we come to notice fallacious argumentation in ourselves and others?How does a person reckon with the fluid and often faulty nature of perception?How can we have a beginner's mind when we consider our stances and perceptions?A simple answer must include vigilance and practice. We must remain always curious about our ideas and humble enough to recognize that we may have arrived at them by faulty means.There is always more to a story than we can see.  That’s where a beginner's mind comes in.We must view our collection of beliefs with a suspicious eye. We come to conclusions via a process with steps along the way.  Every step has potential pitfalls, where arguments that seem to make sense on the surface turn out to be faulty.  Especially those that elicit an emotional reaction in us.  Those presenting us ideas may have used poor but salacious argumentation, made leaps of faith, jumped to conclusions, used distorted thinking, presented fallacies in lieu of logic, and had hidden biases.  In a sea of data, our minds try to find answers, often using pattern recognition and mental shortcuts.  Predicting that the Mind will jump to these conclusions can make us more disciplined. And finally, with propaganda and advertisements as examples, let’s remember that we live in a world where not everyone is honest.  Not everyone has our needs in mind.  We are being manipulated by political parties, businesses, and other institutions with their own agendas.   We can begin with the stance that most public entities are selling us something.  They often package the information they want us to believe in the form of a narrative whose accuracy is less important than its efficacy. The narrative, the relatable story, makes the information manageable and palatable.   Our minds love a good story, especially one where we get to be the hero.   Stories that feel good sell products.  Stories that make us feel good about ourselves sell even more products, this is called humoring.  But stories that make us feel bad may rouse us into action, bypassing our logical mind to access our primitive amygdala.  This is where propaganda comes in.  Propaganda pushes our fear buttons so we are primed to look at others with suspicion.  Then we can find affiliation with others who are suspicious of other groups.  Then we feel good again.This is how nations get divided and scapegoats get sent off to camps and worse.  The 20th Century was a cautionary tale; Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, Imperial Japan, Communist Russia and other examples of propaganda leading to genocide abound.  Tens of millions died in WW2.  But the majority of that genocide took place within the borders of said nations.  Autocrats like Hitler turned a benevolent populace against a convenient scapegoat, via propaganda and 6 million Jews were massacred.The process of propagandizing and amassing absolute power took years from Hitler’s election in 1932 until the bloody end of WW2 in 1945.So while I love to discuss the talking points of the day, to speak up for my candidate of choice, I prefer a deeper focus.  Let’s look beneath the surface and explore the arguments themselves. Let’s decode them and notice who may be propagandizing us.  We must develop this ability before we share media or talking points that may be misleading.  Otherwise, we become a stooge, carrying water for a demagogue.And finally, we must assess and be willing to renounce our affiliations.  We must recognize that we may have been unwittingly propagandized to the point of cult status.  This is where humility serves, for we are all prone to manipulation.  We are all vulnerable to the manipulations of those who seek to sway us to their agendas.The only fighting chance we have is to arm ourselves with at least a passing familiarity with the tools of the propagandist.  Otherwise, we know not whom we serve.  The gruesome costs of ignorance are everywhere: Civil War Memorials, the still standing Death Camps in Europe.  And yet Anti-Semitism abounds, as does a sunny and absolutely falsifiable revisionist history about our Civil War, known colloquially as the Lost Cause.  Propagandists also want to rewrite history: even selling unwitting consumers on the idea that the Holocaust never happened.  How much easier will that be when all the survivors of the death camps are long dead?Such is the slippery nature of perception.  We can be made to believe lies.  And these lies lead to stances, which lead to votes.  And those votes can and do empower autocrats to take more and more power.  And they never willingly give it back. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I love writing and sharing my insights and perceptions. If you enjoy this writing, would you please consider doing one or more of the following? Subscribe, like the article, share an article with friends or consider being a paid subscriber. It’s just $5 a month but it helps. Thanks 8)We often criticize each other for wallowing in self-pity. The connotation is clearly negative. But is this fair? The idea crossed my mind yesterday that pity is a form of love. If I saw a hurt, sick or hungry animal, I would be overtaken with pity.That pity would cause me to care for this animal in any way I could. Pity asks us to give grace. Not to ask if that animal worked hard enough to find food and water or to avoid cars. Pity asks us to give, to shepherd, to protect and to lift up someone or something in need.Obviously, with self-pity, we don't want to use it as a defense against working, considering our part, taking responsibility, making amends etc. But perhaps we are sitting in self-pity because we are deserving of this form of self-love. Perhaps a s**t-storm of events has overtaken us. Maybe we don't know what to do. Maybe we are absolutely devastated to our core.Maybe self-pity is destructive. I don't know better. I don't know if it might be helpful for a time and then becomes a crutch, a defense, a shield. Maybe it becomes part of our story and we need to move on from it and become empowered again.However this shakes out, I want to look at everyone, including myself, anew. I don't know anyone's story, their suffering, their deficits and their blind spots. Maybe the tough love of telling someone to stop wallowing in self-pity is appropriate.I don't have a slick answer, but a nagging voice inside is telling me that calling someone out for wallowing in self-pity feels like a robotic, checked-out kind of answer. A closed-heart kind of decree. A de facto rejection. A self-congratulatory typecasting of someone as lazy or playing the victim.And we are all victims at times. I wonder how well we can move on from said victimhood when either we or others won't recognize this basic truth. Sometimes we are powerless. Or we were. We were hit by a car on the sidewalk. We were blindsided by the decision of another with power over us. Or multiple events affected us at once. And perhaps it’s a blend of things for which we were and were not responsible.Admitting we have been victims means we are vulnerable to the vagaries of life. And for some, admitting that the homeless person on the street or the person looking back from the mirror is vulnerable means that they are not omnipotent. Not safe and not truly secure.Death stalks us all. Poverty, illness, loss, and loneliness are a part of this life. I wonder if instead of criticizing the person for their self-pity, if we might join them. Give them an ear. Relate. Feel for them. For they are us. I hope we can be willing to love ourselves and accept our moments of victimhood, of frailty and of absolute bewilderment.Perhaps too, we can look at moments when we caused harm to others, intentionally or otherwise. And can we be our brother's keeper without shaming them for self-pity? I wonder if our collective unwillingness to help those in need is rationalized by this rubber stamp of disapproval we place on self-pity. And further, if our unwillingness to see our own pitiable, wounded self perpetuates our rejection of those in need.Please comment, subscribe, like, and share This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I was playing my guitar the other day and randomly started playing the Star Spangled Banner, albeit poorly.  There was absolutely no Jimi Hendrix Woodstock version being channeled.  As an aside, playing other people's songs can be moving.  There's something about how it feels when a song comes out of me that makes it more personal and tangible.  I often feel enriched.  I first noticed this while playing Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen.  It was a song I didn't particularly like until I played it for someone who did.  And then for a moment, his words were my words. As I played the Star Spangled Banner I thought about how the song did rouse a patriotic spirit in me these days, in a way that I didn't feel very often before.  I suppose I didn't see the need before; there was nothing apparent to defend against.  That sense of security was false, but that’s a story for another day.I never saw myself as patriotic: perhaps largely because of limiting social messages about what patriotism was.  Patriotism was apparently expressed in a few obvious ways. One was being a soldier, another, being conservative.  Or it was about symbolic gestures like saluting the flag or standing for the pledge.  I was never drawn to these specific choices so I assumed that meant I wasn’t patriotic. I was wrong.And while I honor those choices, sometimes refusing to serve in an unjust war is patriotic.  Sometimes kneeling in protest of institutional racism is the patriotic choice.  Sometimes being liberal is patriotic.  Sometimes being patriotic means risking being ostracized and misunderstood.When I was a Senior in High School I refused to stand for and recite the Pledge of Allegiance in Homeroom and was sent to the Principal's Office.  The homeroom teacher was a veteran and was offended by my protest.  He said that he fought for this country and that I must stand.  I said that he fought in that war so I didn't have to prove my fealty.Because I was free.  And I was no hero, but I was brave enough to make him mad.  Because having to stand and pledge allegiance to a nation was what people do who are not free.As I look back now, I see it.  There will always be people, well-meaning and otherwise, who are trying to take away our freedom.  Their pride may be dominating and blinding them.  It may be their fear or chauvinism.  Whatever it is, they think they're right.  They're the good guys.Mr Caputo probably thought I was just a punk kid.  And I was.  But I was honoring that little voice inside that said this isn't right.  This isn't what we're about in America.  And I was right.  In a time where I was lost, depressed, losing interest in school and directionless, I still had my moments of clarity and bravery.  And sadly, I didn't see these as a way into myself, my mission, my voice and my path.  30 years later I'm just recognizing this and hoping they make a pill to let me live and be healthy to 150.As I finished playing the Star Spangled Banner in my rudimentary way, I thought of the last line:Oh say does that star spangled banner yet waveO'er the land of the free and the home of the braveI almost put a question mark on the end of that sentence...because it is a question.  Does it yet wave? Are we still free?  The flag, in this example, is the symbol of our freedom: the barometer, the indicator. Just like in wartime.  And I thought to myself, if this is the land of the free and the home of the brave, what does it mean to be free?  And what does one do if one is brave?Attacking our Capitol to try and overturn a free and fair election isn't brave.  Supporting a candidate that calls his detractors vermin and uses other words directly from long-dead genocidal dictators is not brave.  He would not bring about freedom.  He would mislead his foolhardy followers into doing his bidding like strongmen always do.  Like the Confederates did.They always bring destruction and misery.  The 20th Century is a recent testament to the endless blood-lust of the soulless demagogue.  The usurper.  The authoritarian.  The false messiah.This is the land of the free and the home of the brave,  if you can keep it, to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin.For this guy, I'm gonna vote for those who didn't try to overturn the election and kill the Vice President.  Call me crazy. I think that’s by far the most patriotic choice. And while you’re free to disagree with me, if you agree, please consider being brave enough to challenge those who would vote the other way. Be willing to make people uncomfortable, including yourself. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Beware those that flatter your sensibilities. They’re usually selling you something: literally or figuratively.Sit with that for a moment.We love being flattered. We eat it up. We love being the good guy, the hero, the cowboy in the white hat. And we can be manipulated into making poor choices by those who would take advantage of us via the age-old technique of flattery.Propaganda can influence us by presenting criminals that we can judge and bemoan. Downward comparison makes us feel better about ourselves as we sit in righteous indignation about how the world is going to hell in a hand-basket. We need to be suspicious when a narrative comes along that makes us also feel heroic. It’s usually a call-to-action. Certain dark corners of our media seem to constantly elicit righteous indignation about crime, drug use, non-traditional lifestyles and immigrants. They’ve got to convince you of the problem before they sell you the solution. More on that later.“Diplomatic immunity.” The line spoken in a South African accent always comes into my mind when I think of the movie Lethal Weapon 2. The story was about an Apartheid South African Diplomat and the illegal drug trade. It was one of those movies that was entertaining and well acted. But in looking back, I surmise that it was successful at least in part because it flattered our sensibilities. Especially as conscientious citizens of a nation with its own ugly racial history, it’s easy to see why we collectively want to feel absolved. The bad guys were so cartoonishly evil, so easy to hate. And we, by extension, were so good because we were against racism. We got to live vicariously through the good characters in the movie. And as Americans, we had a faraway boogeyman to love to hate.Movies like these seem to be a self-congratulatory effort to make oneself (or a whole nation) feel better about our complex history and our sense of collective guilt over slavery. Dances With Wolves is similarly manipulative: a convenient revision of our history concerning Native Americans. Another very self-congratulatory endeavor, much like the Lost Cause Narrative that has overtaken the actual history of our nation’s bloody Civil War.We can be the hero, against slavery, noble, the good guy. Flattery deludes and pacifies.Similarly, it goes without saying that we are all against the mistreatment of children. Every sane human wants to end sex trafficking, child labor, and child abuse of any kind. And yet conspiracies about rampant child sex trafficking and abuse have become mainstream in the last 5 years or so. These dramatic stories would lead many to believe that a burgeoning child slave trade and rampant child sex rings etc abound. Q Anon, Pizzagate and other fantastical and unfounded conspiracy theories have captured the attention of large swathes of our population. People believed that child slaves were being sent in furniture boxes from Wayfair, an online furniture company. These theories took place at the crossroads of a conspiracy-peddling fascist presidency and the Covid 19 outbreak and subsequent shutdown.Millions of us were working from home, or out of work. We were home and bored amid an onslaught of messages about the shutdown, the vaccines, politicians and other public servants. Documentaries like ‘Plandemic’ had many believing that the covid virus and vaccines were all part of a Deep State plan to control the masses and curtail rights. It wouldn’t be long before many were told by the outgoing President himself that the 2020 election was stolen by the incoming President, Joe Biden. And there was a ‘documentary’ called ‘2000 Mules' that sold many people on this clearly falsifiable claim.So it’s easy to see why some would believe what they saw, since there purveyors of such stories presented them as truth. But why did so many fall for this nonsense? Because the viewers were being flattered. They were the good guys. And only they could stop the villains. And the villains were everywhere! Politicians, big pharma and other big targets were easy to vilify as faceless entities bent on destruction and profit.But it turns out that each of these conspiracies was debunked. Liberals weren’t drinking virgin blood. There was no secret DNC child slave trade or sex ring. The government didn’t intentionally release covid only to help the big pharma companies make billions. It was all disinformation in service of dividing our nation.Why did they want us divided? To sow confusion and distrust of the government. To help usher in a Fascist would-be dictator in Donald Trump. And it’s working. And the conspiracies, collectively were like a trojan horse, willingly accepted and with similarly devastating results.For more details about how so many were duped into conflating prostitution with the child sex trade, please read the following article. I found it very enlightening, especially since it agrees with the suspicions I held about these events.THEINTERCEPT.COMQAnon Was Born Out of the Sex Ad Moral Panic That Took Down Backpage.comFor years, the political establishment opportunistically railed against sex trafficking and ads on Backpage.com. Then came another conspiracy theory. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

Sometimes the battle within mirrors the battle without.  And it doesn't have to be a battle, but sometimes it is.  Right now our nation is in a  battle: a war of ideas, a war on our capacity to make sense, to know what is true and who is who.With so much at stake, it sounds hyperbolic but the mundane truth is that we have to choose what we stand for and who will lead us.  But deeper, we must decide who we are as a nation, at a core level.  Everything else radiates from this place.As I look at one of our candidates I realize he epitomizes the act of using.  He uses women.  He uses workers.  He uses his followers.  He uses the system to self-deal.  He uses media and the economy.  He is the ultimate taker of things.  And we as a nation must be careful not only to stop him, but to not become him, even in seemingly small ways. Trumpism is anti-life and anti-love.  Anti-freedom and anti-truth.  And yet it's so alluring to so many.  If he is not the anti-Christ, there is no such thing.  And yet the ultimate cartoon foil of our ego and our shadow can and must serve a purpose.   The purpose, on a political level may be to show us the weaknesses and fault lines in our founding documents and our legal system.The purpose on a soul level is for us to take a long, hard look at ourselves, to not flinch when we see little selfish baby Trumps in our own psyche.  To accept that when we hate him, we are usually projecting some amount of self-hatred: hatred about parts of us that we cannot accept or admit.  This is projection.But we must see the ways in which we fall short and begin to love those parts.  We must unmask these shadows and hold them to account as we hold Him to account in our courts of law and at the ballot box.Simply put, we must choose who we are and who we will be.  That reckoning can be daunting in the short run.  But we will come to realize that we are not a collection of our worst moments and lowest urges.  We are the stuff that's underneath that.  Just waiting to be unearthed and dusted off.I wish everyone happy excavating.  Do so with kindness and a sober eye.  And yet we must firmly choose not to tolerate any unconscious malevolence, from within or without.  We must connect the dots.It's easy for me to condemn Donald Trump as a user.  He is the most blatant and disgusting user there could be. But why does that irk me so?  Who have I used?  How have I used a system for my benefit?  Unpleasant questions to be sure.  I guess it's better than the self-congratulatory sleep that so many seek.And if we come to the conclusion that we have fallen short, we're still here.  We still have time to stop bad behaviors and make better choices and tip the scales in the other direction.  Transformation is a process, not an incident.  Do we have the willingness to see?  If a situation is demanding courage, it's probably the right path. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I almost forgot to post my one-word dream last night. They can fade so fast from memory. I think I had been asking what to do about my many interests juxtaposed with my need to make money and provide value.An answer came to me in the form of a word. That word, if it is one, was 'portrayer.' I saw the outlines of transparent letters of the word on a floral backdrop just before I awoke, That's often the message portal in my dreams. Whoever it is deposits the messages when I would seem most apt to receive and remember.Lots of us portray our thoughts and feelings in different ways. But the message I got was that there was value in my ability to share my take on things. As if my job was to process information, distill it, uncover hidden truths. To help in the sense-making process.I'm sure this is true of lots of people. Visual artists, singers, authors, political pundits and on and on. We help each other digest and organize the dense and scattered information that this world and culture present us. We help each other find meaning, purpose, reconnection and fascination in an alienating and sick society.I was looking over at a new drummer last night who closed her eyes and just sat there entranced in our circle, clearly her first time. She was riveted and swaying as if she was receiving something she didn't know she needed. She left with the biggest smile. We have tremendous power over one another. We portray and accept portrayals to our delight and at our peril.We help each other find our way to growth and to find discernment.I know it was just a one-word answer, but I always appreciate the cryptic messages from my secret admirer. They make me feel connected to something or someone beyond my understanding.It reminds me of the line from Jethro Tull in 'Skating Away on the Thin Ice of a New Day': "Looking for a sign that the universal mind has written you into the passion play."I'll take this dream and the many others as just that sign. That new feeling of cosmically belonging is quite the buoy when seas get rough. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I wrote this 2 years ago at Thanksgiving.  It couldn’t possibly be more apropos right now as we gear up for the most important election in our history.I'm fascinated by how we have had comedic news shows that lampoon the news for 50 years; about as long as I’ve been alive.  Since the news segment on Saturday Night Live, starting in the mid 70s, we've had jokes about the news presented to us in a newsroom format.It may be more polished and obviously topical these days, but even then the comedy news was a place where we wrestled with the news of the day.  TV audiences were dealing with the impacts of seismic and cynical cultural events like Watergate, the OPEC Oil Crisis, and the attempt on Reagan's life. We may see this as comic relief, pure entertainment, but I say the comedy news played and still plays a serious cultural role.  We increasingly rely on a daily admixture of comedy and truth-telling from these outlets.  The Daily Show and some great copycat shows help us untangle and organize reality in a sea of mis-and dis-information.  They ask the deep moral questions, they help us see how, when and if the Emperor wears no clothes. Now the late night talk shows get in on the act too to great results.In a time of fascism, racial violence and intentional political division, nothing could be more valuable than the spell-breaking capacity of comedy mixed with truth.  These outlets, like John Oliver's Last Week Tonight, take deep dives into the myriad issues of the day that affect all of us, and especially issues facing those less fortunate among us.  The truth is so under threat that our comedians had to erect a backstop against hate, misogyny, racism, demagoguery, innuendo, and the like.  To push back.  It's heroic, brilliant and purposeful.I argue that within the 50 year timeline, these comedy news spoofs have gone from mostly kidding and a touch pointed truth to very thorough investigative journalism with a healthy dose of funny.  The cultural importance and value cannot be underestimated.  My absolute favorite was the Colbert Report, which starred Stephen Colbert as a parody amalgamation of Tucker Carlson, Bill O'Reilly and Sean Hannity.  This was stunning political theater and absolutely hilarious.  And it followed Jon Stewart's Daily Show, making the ultimate 1-2 punch.  We were so lucky.And there are others, like Bill Maher, who has played a vital role in our nation's discourse for 30 years.  His 2 shows, Politically Incorrect and Real Time were pioneers in topical tv shows that were funny but willing to make people uncomfortable. Not Necessarily the News was a fun show on HBO when I was a kid.  It was a true news spoof with great writing and funny commercials.  It was a template for the modern shows I mentioned.  But it didn't have a point of view, per se.  It was for fun's sake.  A parody for more entertainment value.So I am so thankful at the education I have gotten from tv and now Youtube.  I paid attention in school, but these outlets help me see the subtleties.  I believe comedy clarifies for us what is blurred by those who would hurry spurious arguments past our intellectual safeguards.This is not easy work.  Being funny about the news of the day while also making it manageable, clear and accurate.  Being a moral filter, entertaining, artistic, informative and fair is a tall order.  These shows do it day in and day out.This Thanksgiving I give thanks to all the tireless writers, investigators etc that put together these daily masterpieces of art, comedy, education and investigative journalism.  What an amazing combination of skills and knowledge.  And: it's funny.  Bravo! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe

I went to a store I hadn't frequented in a long time since I've been a realtor. It was a store I needed more for landscaping. It felt like a step back in time and I was hoping to see familiar faces. One in particular, was a funny and friendly man who I debated politics with before we all did it on Facebook.He was very conservative and I was liberal and we enjoyed sparring. When I asked about him, his former coworker said he had died 5 years before. I was sad and genuinely liked the guy. I can still hear his voice in my head when I think of it.I asked what happened and the man told me that he had a health condition but refused to take the medicine because he didn't want to be a 'pill-popper.' He died soon after. What a shame. He could not have been a day over 60.I understand people not trusting Big Pharma and wanting to live a natural life. But when we get dogmatic and extreme, sometimes things that used to bend have no choice but to break.I see life as demanding, at certain times especially, flexibility from us. Not moral relativism, not a lack of boundaries, but a willingness to reconsider our accepted ideas, our stance and our sureness. This very cool man's dogmatism killed him and I'm sad about it.The very same dogmatism has infected millions in our nation and around the world and I fear a similar outcome but on a grand scale. And we must realize that we are easily misled, easily fooled and easily nudged into a chauvinism that has become second nature.Out-groups are easy targets for those who would manipulate us into doing their bidding and carrying their water. Blame the immigrants, those of different sexual persuasions, religions or ethnic groups. Divide and conquer.I use natural products, herbs, aromatherapy and the like, but I don't esteem my knowledge of science above those who study it and live it. If, in the short-run, a doctor recommends something that will keep me alive while I change my diet, get blood tests or find something natural, I'm in. I take a couple medications that are helping with gout or whatever cousin of this ailment I seem to have. And I have had zero side effects except it helps me sleep.But let's get down to mental gymnastics. Just because something is natural does not make it good. See poison ivy and lead. Petroleum products are natural and they pollute our air, water and land. The makers of natural products market and, at times, use misleading advertising. They are not necessarily better because they don't sell synthetic products.And why are synthetic products bad? Where did we come upon that bias? And why won't people question it? Synthetic products have been amazingly helpful to the human race. Antibiotics, insulin and many other medications save lives daily and have for 100 years. They have their pitfalls, but so do melatonin, chinese herbs, and any number of amino acids used by the wrong person.There exists a philosophical argument that whatever a natural person makes is natural any way. We are part of nature, so our buildings, our labs, our science etc are natural by their very existence.If we don't think about our thoughts and whence they came, we won't see that we are so often peddling nonsense.If we don't discover how we came about our ideas and worldview, we won't realize that they are not us and that we have choice and had it all along.People use terms like facts a lot. They seem to do this in order to concretize what are actually opinions.I suppose it's scary to look into the abyss of not-knowing. Sureness makes us feel safe, like we are right and good. But we are good no matter what. And we need to be curious and humble. Those tools will help us excavate the artifacts of our belief systems. Parents, school, religion, media, friends, nation of origin, the time period we live in. All of these are places where we were taught to think. Did they teach us critical thinking or did they indoctrinate us? Or was it a little of both?We must familiarize ourselves with the tools of misperception and deception: fallacies, biases, cognitive distortions and so on. The stakes are so high. Not only could we die from using distorted thinking, like my friend did, but our whole way of life could be extinguished by thought viruses like scapegoating and conspiratorial thinking.Literally everything is at stake. Our nation's promise of freedom is not immune from entropy. It must be nurtured, fed, and protected.It's just a big collective organism with a symbiotic relationship with its many hosts. Take its protections for granted at your own peril.Inquire. Educate yourself on the ways in which we mislead ourselves and each other. Correct your thinking. Tell the others.This is the most important moment ever. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit greenmang.substack.com/subscribe