Will someone please set my hair on fire? Thank you.

There’s a man at the farmers market who sharpens knives and scissors. The spot at the end of that row seems to alternate between the sharpening man and a young woman who does chair massage.  So one week you can get a massage and the next week you can get your scissors sharpened.

The man uses a power wheel to do his sharpening. No doubt that is the tool to use for the task he has, but I would not put my Dragonfly on a wheel. I love that knife. I carry it every day. It’s the best pocket knife I’ve ever had. But mostly I love it because it was a father’s day gift from my kids. That wheel would create friction, and friction causes heat. And I don’t want any heat put into the edge of my blade. Of course the steel in that blade was once molten. It was transformed and tempered by fire. The finished blade is cold.

I read that Krishnamurti was having a conversation with a friend, and the friend said that he felt like he was on fire and what should he do about it? Krishnamurti told him to pour some gasoline on the fire and let everything burn up. Then watch and see what arises from the ashes.

It’s been said that we should practice like our hair’s on fire. That’s an image of urgency, don’t you think?

Most days I feel some urgency. Some days I also feel some fire.

I don’t do this to comfort myself. In the past, maybe. But not now. Now I want to get uncomfortable. Overthrow my status quo. Break some chains. Disrupt some patterns. And I know that none of that shit’s going down without a fight.

I’m feeling a need for heat. Burn my fearful, ego-bound, compulsive mind to ash. Use the heat to forge a cold blade. Call that blade Discernment and use it to cut down between the true and the false.

What can I tell you – I’m in a mood. I’ve been trying to reason with X. Tried loving it, tried accepting it, tried forgiving it, tried ignoring it, tried embracing it… And I think I might even have suggested once or twice that you do the same. So carry on if you can. I’m not complaining. But it just may be that I’m not ready for the loving approach to my bad habits and compulsions. I still love you and everyone I can, of course. But the next time some X shows up we’re throwin down. Mano a mano. I’m ready to RIDE on this shit.

A pledge of honesty has compelled this report to you. And as always, Dear Reader, we should examine the wisdom of listening to a frustrated man.

I’m out.

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