The Recurring American Nightmare That Haunts us in Our Sleep

We rush impetuously into novelty,

driven by a mounting sense of insufficiency,

dissatisfaction and restlessness.

We refuse to recognize that everything better

is purchased at the price of something worse.”

Carl Gustav Jung

At first I saw our crisis,

our existential crisis,

through the eyes of a caregiver

in Planetary Hospice.

In one zen bed self-aware beings

who know they are dying – sweet at the end.

In the other everyone else unaware,

live we’ve always known ending,

oceans dying, species ceasing to exist, ho hum…

We are all apart together

in the midst of Stage Four Grieving

our lost indwelling connection to the natural

world, our mother, Earth.

Depression. That’s Stage Four – our terminal depression.

Societal eco-suicidal denial-fueled depression.

Black is the new black…

I saw the best minds of my generation falling

into Gnosticism’s abysmal pit of despair

masked in scientific cynicism and rampant self

medication – medicating the Self.

While others by some miracle of human nature

aware, light-bodies projected on a shrouded planet,

luminously aware, already self-liberated in

the 5th Elemental Stage – acceptance.

Self-meditating others, planting seeds of light in

darkened soil with compassion.

But mostly, by far, there is madness all about,

the overshadowing masses acting out

together in fossil-fueled distraction,

Plutonic clouds gathering o’er our heads,

plastic oceans filling with subconscious corpses,

heat of coil oil carbon blazing in a world afire

and 1.4 billion bovines biliously belching

greenhouse ovens storing future freight trains full

of the unborn DOAs.

“Europe is broken. America – broken.”

The real natural man

is just in open rebellion

against the utterly inhuman form

of [modern] life.

C.G. Jung

What are we going to do

to wake up?

Exactly the right question for our times.

What is keeping us in our alarming slumber?

Why this feeling of digitized stuckness in

the next-to-last-grieving stage,

our societal ecocidal depression?

I thought grieving was just the

other side of loving, Grief walker?

And then I saw afresh, me this child

of the dying baby boom generation, of a soldier whose

ship landed in Nagasaki 14 days after

fat boy was dropped, the smell of incinerated flesh

still sickly fresh in the smoldering air…

“What keeps us stuck in the despair of our

collective grieving, glioblastoma papa?”

The answer so obvious, son, in your atomic juke box DNA.

Collective Trauma. Climate Trauma.

The Great Depression this time as yet

unacknowledged, fueling yet another Great Dying.

We are Witnesses to the Resurrection

of all our historical traumas raised from

the dead, who Jung believed were more alive

than the living, having on CGI Crucifixes like

an Infinity World Wide Web of War,

this 24/7 Fight Fright & Flight News Network,

taking us by stormy seas, by tweets and dying

songbirds, red tide rising and dead baby

whales washed up from the watered graveyards

of our American Dream.

When am I going to wake up?

Whistling right past Me Too,

Black Lives Matter, and Water Protectors,

ripping the babies from their crying mother’s breasts.

THIS is Climate Trauma!

THIS is something new.

The enemy of the people is truth.

And sadly, truth really is true – no matter

what you see, hear or read.

There are no alternatives.

Are we ready yet in this clown car train

to Treblinka to bravely face the terrible truth?

Our entire biosphere under continual assault

from the banality of business-as-usual,

the surging and relentless funereal march of

planes and plastics, cluster bombs and cars,

smart phones and dumb-ass consumers

consuming 7 wars and counting.

The countdown… the horror… Pandora is out

of her box.

THIS is Climate Trauma.

When am I going to wake up?americannightmare38americannightmare38


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