It is not just a matter of what we wake up from…it is also a matter of what we wake up to.
Waking up from illusion in the world around us – the political, economic, historical farce – is relatively easy. People are doing it by the hundreds of thousands now.
But what are we waking up to? When we have stripped away the conditioning of the outward world and gotten wise to it, what are we left standing with? When all the pillars have been cast down, what is there to praise, to cherish, to love?
There are a million options, it seems.
Funky occult ideas which tug on our heart strings and make us feel grandiose. Or more ascetic cults which tell us we do not really exist and thereby make us passive and, in the end, radically confused.
There is every manner of romantic mysticism doing the rounds, all experience is just a click away, the excitement of being in on something that the masses are not.
No secret book remains uncovered. No arcane teaching has not been revealed. We are just one consuming wave of ascension away from release (or so it is regularly claimed).
These many, various movements contain as much infinite riddle and obscuration as our dark, complex minds could ever desire.
They contain as much elevation of the individual seeker through apotheosis as our romantic hearts could ever crave.
They contain motivating words and ideas to spur us on (to be ever-seeking!).
Strange cults and sentimental theories lock in on our private dreams and hopes and precious clutched histories like heat-seeking psychic missiles.
Years can pass by, and will, oh yes, they will, ….whole lifetimes spent spinning within hermetically-sealed, secret theatres.
But what does any of that MEAN when it comes to the moment- by-moment living of a singularly unusual existence in human form? How do we act with this endless information? Is it not largely a glittering diversion?
When we make symbols, occult theories and myths into anything more than temporary tools we may employ to transcend, we are potentially wasting a precious human life.
How astonishing it is to be incarnated and conscious on a ‘goldilocks’ planet in infinite space. We should not waste time in enchanting cul-de-sacs.
Tools, yes, there are endless beautiful tools. We should use them as we need them, but know them only to be sign-posts, vague imitations.
But identities, no.
Any symbol. Any myth. Any teaching.
Who Am I?
Not this, not that….
(Just my own temporary opinion, not meant to be disrespectful.)