living as a free spirit in a hardened world
"To live purposelessly on this earth for a while is a true stunt and a valuable asset to the rounding off of oneís character. To step out on the limb where meaning canít follow, where the world sheds itís linear veneer, and the self sheds all definition, is to walk on thin ice over a bottomless ocean. But at times there is nothing like it. Once you get a taste and a liking for it there is little in life to compare.
The worldís grey and banal ways become hideous intrusions into the electrifying and vertiginous heights one can soar up to when the mind is finally addled and the new eyes opened.
To exist in that simple state of disorientation, to desire it, and to need it, is to detest the world of action, purpose, and reason, for these add nothing to the glorious endowment but only obstruct the joy of the glide.
I wanted only to continue not belonging, not understanding, not trying, nor seeking; I wanted to learn to hover in the full-blown magic of life and to fall away without caring. I wanted to desist without conviction, to melt into the mystery laughing and aghast and to be done with mankindís useless games forever.
Oh indeed, the gentle rhythm of the spirit is all but wholly extinguished in these days of unnatural lives and vain actions, and I cared for none of it. Think of what it is to be natural, and you will understand how far astray mankind has gone. Nothing but clothing, clocks, fences, signs, pavement, television, telephones, engines, school, weapons, banks, business, bureaucracy, politics, borders, rules, passports, paper, condoms, surgery, pills, walls, wire, forks, knives, cans, haircuts, makeup, shoes, sports, shovels, stores, diplomas, titles, careers, money, rent, hospitals, hotels, holidays, furniture, wheels, churches, names, dams, factories, fools, failures, fanatics, and so on. The whole mess of it one great, terrible lie. A pandemonium of pernicious delusion. All of it. Everything we have created we have done at our own peril. We have walked away from the beauty, and joy, and the miracle of living. We have made heaven into hell. And there is no way most people will change until God lines them up and puts a bullet through the back of their heads. And who can wait for that? The only option left is to steal as much of heaven back as possible; to work little, need little, spend little, to live and dance and hold your brothers and sisters in your arms with one eye pointed to heaven and one eye keeping a watch on mankind, and never to deny your heart its inmost yearning.
To live as a spirit is to feel and follow the true pulse of the true heart of the true life and to live from that core and that core alone. It is to ascend to the level of the living dream, to enter the portal of sublimity, to exist on the diaphanous plane of passion and piety. To live on this tired earth as a spirit is to enter the stream and get lost in the current, it is to ride the wave that never crashes, and to slip through the walls of false being, false meaning, false worth. But you must live it. You cannot read about it, talk about it, or understand it. The only thing to do is to let go of the world and grab hold of the sky. To embrace the wild fecundity of the soft reality. To banish all fear, expectation, comfort, and worry. To find your essence, grow your essence, be your essence. To live as a spirit is to never set down, to never alight, to never get caught. It is to give way to the Juggernaut of mankind, but to not give yourself away. It is to look to the birds for example, to the trees for love, and to the great soul for communion. To live as a spirit in this spiritless world is to enter a realm which no one else belongs in nor understands; it is to break the veil and dance along the membrane; it is to punch a hole in the heavens and send a flood of life down through yourself to a world of disbelief and anguish. It is to relearn a way of being which will mesmerize and horrify your fellows, and in which you find a new set of ups and downs, losses and victories, sorrows and joys to which the world is wholly blind. To live on this earth as a spirit is to become a spirit, and that means- if you are strong and sedulous enough to maintain it- to break the chain of causality, leap off the wheel, and to leave this hardened world for good."
What the critics have said about Jack Haas' books:
"...very strongly recommended reading..." Midwest Book Review
"The Kerouac of the new millennium." Frank Wolf (author of Blind Bay)
"...inspires us to rediscover the mystery of ourselves..." Judine Slaughter (Express Yourself Books)
"...Read in awe." Benjamin Tucker (author of Roadeye)
"...groundbreaking..." Joanne Turner (The Messenger)
"...an embarrassment of riches..." George Fisk (author of A New Sense of Destiny)
"...poetic and stunning..." Nancy Jackson (Dog-Eared Book Reviews)
Books by Jack Haas
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