I’m sad. I’m grieving.
I’m sad for the ego-walls I’ve built for myself. I’m sad for the degree of satiation & satisfaction I’ve become so reliant on: A little bit hungry; a little bit not-stimulated; a little bit not-reassured or comforted. Then distress.
All the while maintaining this inner sub-threshold sense or dialogue with myself; ego-reverberating with itself like an echo-chamber; I’ve got this figured out; me, the psychologist, this scholar of the human condition; I know, I study this stuff; I’m the one with the answers.
I do NOT have it all figured out. I definitely do not. Do not look to me for advice.
For as soon as I arrive at some destination I’m slow-declining without some next mountain to climb, or another project, or another “I’ll be happy when”; if only I maintain this day-in-day-out progression of reps and grind and slow-build.
And you had better buy-in and believe me so that I feel validated by the memes I’m spreading; which things catch? What am I by what you are? Are you happy with me? Have I pleased you?
This flimsy, dependent, conditioned, writhing, autonomous programme that just plays, over, and over, and over… until oblivion. Death. No more road.
If spirituality is anything it is surely a response to this human condition. To escape; to transcend; to rise above, out of it, beyond; the limited, finite, discrete conditional programming of the ego and it’s mindless drive for more; comfort, getting, satisfying, meaning-making, more, want, don’t-want.
These limited ego patterns. Completely impersonal, like a virus infecting everything; hidden yet influencing every decision, interaction, consumption. Completely impersonal, yet feeling so compellingly like ‘Me”.
Is this not one tremendous paradox?
cjG
#mygroundtruth
Look closely. It might not be so obvious. cjG