Sunday, May 07, 2017

NO END "PATHS"? A LIFE-LONG "JOURNEY" WHICH NEVER REACHES THE DESTINATION? A LIFETIME OF TREATMENT WITH NO CURE AT ALL? Sensible and Sane? Or Senseless and Insane? Part "V"

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Persons (the "non-realized") are also willing to enter onto a "path" and then end up staying on it, and willing to begin a "journey" which never reaches the destination but continue on that "journey" anyway, and are willing to accept a treatment plan which they are told offers no cure for what ails them but normalize that and stay with that ineffective plan, anyway, for this reason also: 

53. Because billions of non-realized persons on planet earth live their lives as if they were bump-and-go cars (which is one of the side effects of reason #1: the masses have all been programmed, conditioned, domesticated, acculturated, indoctrinated and brainwashed.). 

When raised in poverty with Christian parents, December for the kids in our neighborhood was never quite the treat that it was for some children in other areas. In our neighborhood, only one family - the Kerleys - has a television, and we were allowed to visit only once a week to watch a show (at least as much as we could "watch" when the black and white picture faded into an overall light, grayish tone and when every broadcast seemed to show snow falling in the mid-range between the camera and the subjects). 

In December, we would see ads during our one hour of allotted TV time, ads for what appeared to be some wonderful toys; however, we knew that we would never receive any toys as nice as those because - for whatever reason - Santa always brought crap toys to all of the kids in our neighborhood. 

We figured maybe he really did know "who had been naughty and who had been nice" during the year and that the crap toys we received were evidence of the fact that the fat bastard really did know all of our secrets and was jerking us around accordingly. We guessed he knew that . . .

Gangster Jabo from two doors down had been the one who actually pinched the Baby Ruth candy bar from the Pak-A-Sak store on the corner but that all of us delinquents took a guilty bite; he knew that we visited Bill in his tree house in order to sneak at peak at his stash of black-and-white pics of some nude women that he found one morning behind the Pak-A-Sak; and he knew that I was giving poor Ms. Myrtle - our Sunday School teacher - pure hell by raising logical questions about all of the illogical stories which she taught us from her Bible. 

We figured out that such behavior would guarantee that criminal kids would get nothing but crap toys. Later, when we were told the adults had flat-out lied to us and that there was no Santa Claus at all - but that he did represent God - then it was a short leap to understanding that God was watching sinners, that he would not give any of them / us any decent gifts, and that - on top of that - he had a really crappy eternity of punishment waiting for us all. 

Occasionally, to try to reduce my odds of spending an eternity in hell, I would quit taking bites of stolen candy for a while; I looked at Bill's pictures with one eye instead of with both eyes; and I tried - I really tried - to stop challenging all of the BS that Ms. Myrtle was passing along. 

As for those half-hearted efforts, my "Personality Type Four Rebel, Questioner, and Marcher to the Beat of a Different Drummer" never allowed me to pull that off with any consistency. Burn, Floyd, Burn. The eventual result? 

"I give up. Pass that damn candy bar over here, Jabo, and pass those pictures over here, Bill; and Ms. Myrtle . . . I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not. I'm going to keep calling 'BS' on BS." 

But one Christmas, sometime rare happened. Each year, I could ask for one gift and seldom got what I asked for, but that year, it finally happened. I asked for a bump-and-go car . . . and I got it! 

"Hallelujah! After I get done playing with this car, I'm going to reflect on the year and recall what I did that obviously propelled me into 'Good Boy' status!"

Back then, bump-and-go cars were not powered by batteries but had a wind-up spring inside that could be tightened with a special key. 

The way the car functioned was this: once you wound it up and set it on the floor, it could go in a straight line until it ran into something. When that happened, the car would reverse, turn ninety degrees and go in a straight line again until it crashed again. 

The process was repeated until the spring wound down and had to be tightened again. The modern version looks like this: 

             

The memory of the way that car functioned would be recalled one day in adulthood, and it would bring with it a vital realization.

Eventually, as an adult, the pain and suffering which had come with a no-choice-but-blindly-driven-instead-kind-of-sleepwalking existence reached a misery level which was high enough to inspire me to wake up long enough and to inspire me to stop long enough and to inspire me to look objectively enough at the way I was living (or the way I was in the process of self-destructing). 

And what I saw when I suddenly flashed back one day to the memories of that bump-and-go car I received one Christmas was this: 

"Damnation! I've been living a life that has been running just like that car! I get all wound up inside. Then I race about, full speed ahead. I crash but don't stop; instead, I turn and go and do and zoom again and again and I do that time and time again, over and over and over. I've been crazy as hell to live like that." 

I had long seen quite clearly that I had been surrounded all my life by persons living their lives as if they were bump-and-go cars. I has also long seen that the masses were all living in just as ignorant and insane a manner. I had long seen that the dual-minded masses had been unstable in all ways. 

Now it was time to admit, "If you spot it, you've got it. If you can see it, you can be. You, too, have been wound up and set up to behave like a bump-and-go car on auto-pilot. It's time to be free of that."

It was time to return to those early roots when authenticity had been manifest, when BS was seen to be BS, and when going along with "the madding crowd" was never even considered to be an option. 

So the searching began, and paths were found and tried and abandoned because they did not lead to what was being sought; and journeys were conducted over and over, with no end resulting in liberation at all. All of the long, arduous, obsession-driven traveling along roads that were taken during the seeking for relief and peace and an ability to stop all of that craziness was suddenly seen to be unfolding in the same way that the stop-and-go car from my childhood had functioned. 

The seeking, as happens so often with so many, was just a substitute version of the chaotic bump-and-go manner of living, and the two lifestyles differed not at all. 

After decades of seeking to learn more and more and more of what I was told I needed to know to get free, and after decades of totally failing to find what I thought I was rightly seeking, a totally different awareness popped into consciousness one evening.

What came was this: 

"What if you do not need to know more but actually need to know a lot less?" 

"What if everything your parents and preachers and teachers told you was just like that BS Santa Claus lie your parents told you? If they lied about one thing, might they not have lied about it all? They were following the lead of their culture, but their culture was made up of persons who were programmed to believe lies and to pass down lies and nonsense and learned ignorance and insanity."

"What if all you have ever been told and were taught and had read was a damn lie, just so much BS?" 

"What if you don't need to keep packing your mind full of more and more garbage but need to clean it out completely?"

"What if you need to take out all of the trash stored in your mind and discard it all?" 

Once that process of understanding began and was completed, then the long-sought relief and peace and an ability to stop all of the craziness came. And what came with that was a means of functioning which is practiced by every living thing on the planet (except for humans), namely, a way of functioning naturally and spontaneously. 

Never again would I function in an unconscious, auto-pilot manner like a wound up bump-and-go car. An ability to make choices came. An ability to sleep well at night came, along with an ability to be fully awake during the day. 

And, sanely, all seeking ended. WHO - what ego-state(s) - want to keep seeking after what was being sought is found? Only those who have been fooled. Only those who are being driven without any ability to make conscious choices. 

Only those who, even as adults, are still behaving like little children who were put on a path by their parents and told to stay on that path forever and who are now are, unquestioningly, following those inane orders which were given to them during their childhood. 

Only those who have been wound up by their parents and their cultures and then set down and allowed to race about in a helter-skelter fashion and who have been programmed to crash and then back up and then do it all over again and again and again. 

Moreover, the crazy going and doing and zooming can happen

if not seeking,

and the crazy going and doing and zooming can happen when obsessively and fanatically  

engaged in endless seeking

And it is the willingness of the masses to accept a life that mimics a bump-and-go car which drives persons (the "non-realized," those not-yet-freed-of-ignorance) to enter onto a "path" and then end up staying on it, and to begin a "journey" which never reaches the destination but to continue on that "journey" anyway, and to accept a treatment plan which they are told offers no cure for what ails them but normalize that and stay with that ineffective plan, anyway. 

To be continued. 

Please enter into the silence of contemplation. 

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