The truth is, when I think of God, the first thing that pops into my mind is the bearded guy in the clouds, watching and judging. Like, he knows that he shouldn’t judge me. But he does. He just isn’t all in my face about it. He leaves it up to me to pay attention to the signs. But make no mistake. He likes me but he doesn’t like me like me.
He loves you.
No matter how much I want to believe that spirituality surrounds me, the awful truth is I don’t feel it. Sure, it comes and goes. Moments when the vibration levels peak and you can almost see over the horizon. I understand a thousand different ways how we are all an interconnected One, a ubiquitous, timeless now where all possibilities permutate and converge into all actualities. It doesn’t do me any good. I still feel isolated, disconnected. It’s more than just being trapped in physical flesh. I already know that the physical can be transcendent.
It’s the 5th wall, your spiritual ceiling. You’ve been scrambling up the sides but you can’t get any higher. It’s just as well that you’re stuck in that well. You can’t immerse entirely and lose yourself in ecstasy because you’re always thinking twice, at least. Second guessing from X to the nth degree. If you think about the moment while it’s happening then you lost it. Don’t interrupt the flow by making this just your show. Nobody should be in your soliloquy.
Since childhood I’ve felt this was my calling. To experiment with consciousness, create a future with purpose, and follow metaphysical revelations. Not for answers, at least not for permanent ones. Just to bask in the beauty of more questions and more explorations. And yet, it’s all academic. I can’t use my own experience as an example because I’ve bungled my way through spiritual progress the same way I’ve done with Earthly lessons. I fear I don’t have the discipline.
That sentence could have just ended after, I fear.
They say spiritual attainment doesn’t take work. We are already enlightened so you can pick any path you want and once you reach the end you’ll find that YOU ARE THE PATH. Let me be more concrete. After I read The Illuminatus Trilogy, Robert Anton Wilson had been dead for two years. Crowley and Leary are dead. Alan Watts is dead. Fred Rogers and Bob Ross and Jim Henson and Bill Hicks are all dead. All of the great teachers that have imbued their soul into me from some other dimension via print or digital media are, in my current reality tunnel, GONE. You can keep coming up with crazy religions or keep rebooting all the same archetypes from Mythological Deities to Comic Book Superheroes. It still won’t resurrect the spirit of novelty we so desperately crave.
They are out there: the geniuses, the prophets, the psychedelic psychonauts, the new philosophers, the genetic code manipulators, the secret physic population, the 21st century shamans, etc. They are out there, venturing ever so slightly beyond your wildest frontiers, mapping new territories, dimensions, perspectives, speculations and inventions.
I guess I feel sad because I’m not a part of any of it. It’s just beyond my reach, that world. There are infinite paths and infinite possibilities to choose from. I wish I had a proper spiritual teacher or enough courage to go out and learn on my own. I wish I could feel it happening all the time.
Every human being is a teacher and your life is their example. That’s why we are the new myth makers. Can you imagine the birth of a singular entity compromised of all our dreams and imaginings?
I just want to explore. I want to be part of a MAPS study. I want to speak to others. I want to meet all these people who are preparing for the coming earth changes. I want the death vine trip because I want to get to those higher dimensions and look down from the vantage point of the abyss and then free fall at will into any reality I choose while remembering every lifetime as it were still now. I want to know a Melchizedek when I encounter one. I want to be a buddy with a bodi. I want some damn consistency in my awareness. And I want the physic people to finally let me in on their inside joke…that I’m in on it too.
You’re the punchline.
I know I’m doing God’s work when I teach and help others but it’s not enough. I get frustrated. I take my anger out on others and I forget to remember how to love with my heart. I run my body down yet sleep fitfully because I refuse to quiet the mind. So build the hype up inside myself like a hero who forgets he’s not super. Every time I think I’m about to reach a crescendo, I stumble, the curtain falls and all I can do is imagine the shocked and shamed faces of the audience.
They’ll want their money back. But money’s not real. What they really want is the gift you promised them, the moment of bliss, the hilarity that ensues from suffering.
I just want to go further in my spiritual explorations. Whatever that means.
You have the means. You just don’t use them. Sometimes, you abuse them.
Should I even bother asking who you are?
Well, “I” wouldn’t bother, but that’s just “me.” Think of me as the entity who helped you write this week’s piece.
The same one as always?
Never left you, son, never will.
Never say never.
Never quote stupid platitudes just because someone never told you not to believe in them.
Um, anyway, thanks.
Sure thing. And I mean that quite literally. All of the above…it’s a sure thing. Just believe. We’ll take care of the rest.
We’ll? Don’t you mean I’ll?
Towel Boy regularly talks to himself because he’s such a good listener.