Freedom While Others Sift Through Mud For Drinkable Water

Future Time
Persistence Concluded

"What do you mean you can’t stop writing?” said MV. “Put the pencil down. It’s as easy as that. Your writing days are coming to an end as we speak, I guarantee it!”

“Perhaps you are right, but as long as I am breathing I will continue to write because I can,” I replied.” It’s my way of being free. I stay close to God that way too. Freedom is about creativity and production, and it's also about quality—things get
better over time as they continue to make more sense."

"What's making sense got to do with it?" said MV.

"It's a holistic thing," I replied. "For instance, for me, it wouldn't
make sense to work in bomb factory. That kind of work conflicts with
what I believe. Anything that separates the `other' from me opposes
what I believe. It's all about respect for life, and that means that
it is `wrong headed' to practice self-promotion at the expense of
others. Its `wrong headed' for anyone--or country— to corner the
market on disposable income. It is absolutely wrong for people to
fantasize away wealth while billions of people are scavenging food,
water, and medicine in order to stay alive. It ought to be, if not
people before profits, at least people before massive profits. That's
what I mean by `producing what makes sense.' Life is about choice.
It's about God's freedom in the here and now. It's about doing
something when something needs to be done—anything less goes against God."

"All right already," MV responded, "I see why you're so partial to
leftist philosophies. But all you do is write. How does that save
anybody?"

"One becomes free within their means," I said. "Writing focuses
thought, and when thought is focused on God, well, that's the very
best I can do. And besides, I believe in the ripple effect. Writing
leaves tracks, and the more tracks, the greater the chance of a path,
and after a path, perhaps a trail, one that leads to a `political
will'-- like I said, one becomes free within their means. It's about
doing what you can, and then hope for the best."

"But you're not reaching anyone. Ouch!" replied MV.

"That pain, over time, loses its sting. My own friends, on my last
bicycle trip, forced that lesson upon me," I responded. "Back in 1982,
I was salivating over the opportunity to tell people about my
revelations, but very quickly I found that I had nobody to talk to. It
was a real disappointment."

"What disappointment--the bicycle trip or your lack of message?" said MV.

"Getting people to think outside the box," I replied. "In fact, after
that bicycle trip, I even got tired of hearing myself talk."

"But the trip—how was it?"

"Just fine," I said. "In fact, I just recently uncovered that journal,
so let's take a look-see. I think it will be fun."