I
am free and white and educated. I am retired from a long and satisfying career
as an artist and a designer. I get to spend the bulk of my time writing. It is
a dream come true. I own my own home, mortgage-free, and when I look out the
windows of my condo, I am fortunate to see lush, old-growth trees, rolling
green lawns, and the welcoming doorways of friendly neighbors who watch out for
me as I do for them. Although I have to keep an eye on my budget, I am able to
treat myself with this and that now and then. I am a born contemplative. I am a
truth-seeker.

I am also spoiled!

I am spoiled, because when I am exhausted, I
get to stretch out on my lovely, soft bed or my luxurious chaise longue and go
to sleep, or point the remote to my smart TV, and chill-out to Robert Redford’s
Sundance Kid or Pierce Brosnan’s 007, or an array of other yummy male specimens
of movie-world. But I am not so spoiled that I am blind to my privileges.

I am not so spoiled that I am blind to how lucky
I am that I live in the peaceful Midwest USA rather than in the Donbas region
of Ukraine, that place where not a soul has the luxury of chilling out from the
exhaustion of his/her war-torn days and nights. I am not so spoiled that I
forget that I was born at a time when prisoners in Nazi concentration camps in areas
of Europe got an immediate bullet to the head or a noose around the neck at the
slightest falter in their step or swing of their pickax during their grueling,
crushing workdays. I am not so spoiled that I am blind to the fact that
authoritarianism is still alive and well in places over there and is rattling
the gate to my peaceable kingdom here at this very moment. I am not so spoiled
that I do not fret over the harsh double-standard that suffers the
disadvantaged in every part of the world from time immemorial to this day.

“Linda, if you aren’t careful, you’ll make
yourself sick taking on the worries of the world. After all, you are only human
and there is only so much we humans can do,” I hear from the peanut gallery.

It
is as if being human is the convenient off-ramp on the highway to paradise or is the excuse for plucking only the low-hanging fruit rather than reaching for
the stars. Don’t get me wrong, I have had an on and off relationship with the
“only human” mindset during large swaths of my life, including too often right
now, to my chagrin. I find nothing pretty and nothing redeeming in it, but it is
a hard one to shake. It is so hard to shake, because I am surrounded by it, swallowed
up in it. Because it is the prevailing mindset of human society, escaping it is
like swimming against a tidal wave.

The way I see it, species: Homo sapiens had
best hurry up and evolve beyond such widespread mediocrity. We cannot go on authorizing
the rightness of humans remaining stuck in a condition of “average Janes and
Joes”. I am not indicting the whole human race. Throughout the ages and to this
day shining examples of highly evolved human beings trod the Earth, and maybe
in other galaxies, for all we know at this time. The present-day, prominent model
who comes to mind is Volodymyr Zelenskyy, Ukraine’s leader. And people of his
kind are scattered everywhere, famous as well as every-day people away from the
limelight, some of whom might not know who they are until and unless they put
themselves on the line or are forced through circumstances to step up to it.
My point is that there aren’t enough of such individuals yet among the population
to lead the laggers into their personal power—and for that reason, a critical
mass of us must find and then nurture our inborn magnificence, our God-given
magnificence if you like, and join the ranks of people like Zelenskyy in godly causes
the world over. I use the word “magnificence” in its 14^th century
origin, which is defined as: “great mindedness”, “courageous”, “greatness”, “nobility”.
For only our magnificence will save us.

“MAGNIFICENT HUMANITY”

A collage of charcoal drawing overlaid with paper and
fabric elements 

by Linda Lee Greene

Here’s
a peek at multi-award-winning
author and artist Linda Lee Greene’s latest book, Garden of the Spirits of the Pots, A Spiritual Odyssey. It is a blend of visionary and
inspirational fiction with a touch of romance. The story unfolds as ex-pat
American Nicholas Plato journeys into parts unknown, both within himself and
his adopted home of Sydney, Australia. In the end, the odyssey reveals to him
his true purpose for living. The novella is available in eBook and paperback.

Driven by a deathly
thirst, he stops. A strange little brown man materializes out of nowhere and
introduces himself merely as ‘Potter,’ and welcomes Nicholas to his ‘Garden of
the Spirits of the Pots.’ Although Nicholas has never laid eyes on Potter, the
man seems to have expected Nicholas at his bizarre habitation and displays
knowledge about him that nobody has any right to possess. Just who is this
mysterious Aboriginal potter? 

Although
they are as mismatched as two persons can be, a strangely inevitable friendship
takes hold between them. It is a relationship that can only be directed by an
unseen hand bent on setting Nicholas on a mystifying voyage of self-discovery
and Potter on revelations of universal certainties. 

A blend of
visionary and inspirational fiction, and a touch of romance, this is a tale of
Nicholas’ journey into parts unknown, both within his adopted home and himself,
a quest that in the end leads him to his true purpose for living. 

AMAZON BUY LINK 

Multi-award-winning author and artist Linda Lee Greene describes her life as a telescope that when trained on her past reveals how each piece of it, whether good or bad or in-between, was necessary in the unfoldment of her fine art and literary paths.
Greene moved from farm-girl to city-girl; dance instructor to wife, mother, and homemaker; divorcee to single-working-mom and adult-college-student; and interior designer to multi-award-winning artist and author, essayist, and blogger. It was decades of challenging life experiences and debilitating, chronic illness that gave birth to her dormant flair for art and writing. Greene was three days shy of her fifty-seventh birthday when her creative spirit took a hold of her.