WHO AM I?
I have been rolling downhill on my old-style, electro-mechanical
pinball life. I bounced from bumper-to-bumper, location-to-location,
job-to-job, crisis-to-crisis, and person-to-person. Did I really control any of
this or did I really only control my desire-flippers at the bottom?
I am now propelled by the gravity
of aging and the inertia of my vanities. I am now realizing that I am unable to
really alter the linear direction of my descent toward “Game Over” which prior events
have orchestrated. Even the speed of my fall is cumulative. My rolling silver
steel ball of personality appears out of my control. I watch all that is going
on behind the glass game-top and wonder if I have become a “deaf, dumb blind
kid” like Tommy.
Can’t I choose anything? Do
anything?
Then again, do I really want to
choose? Or should I simply let the events choose? That’s the easiest. Less
effort, right? Watch my little steel ball go straight down and disappear out of
sight. Then I can curse “what they did to me”, those stupid bumpers. Blame
someone else for my fate, my lack of opportunities. The lack of wealth of my
parents, genetics that gave me an “eecch” brain. Maybe whine about the obviously
rigged game of life which is not on the
level. Oh sure, there were inclinations, mine on the inner and the inclined
game table on the outer. And, after all, I chose this game.
And I was inclined to try to affect
the outcome. I shook the table, nudged it – hard
(careful not to “tilt”). But, basically, a pinball life is three balls,
flashing lights, sounds, points rolling on the board as you stand there
somewhat confused, unaware, naïve, numb in my heart and alone. Yeah, I flipped
my desire flippers and occasionally kept the ball in play.
Choose. Huh? Yeah, right.
WHAT DO I WANT?
Let me brood in my dull anger for a moment, okay?
Do I want to choose? Yes, I do
want to choose. And, I realize that if I choose, then I will pay for my choice.
I will suffer. I do suffer. Your
extra replays don’t come free. But, I’m brooding already, right? I have a few
more games racked up on the counter – a few more years before “Game Over.”
Deprivation because when
you choose, you only get one thing – not both. I have to pick one or the other,
poverty because I can’t have both (or the many). There will be labor, conflict,
looming fear, addiction (to my desiring. Desiring? Hell. Longing!), regret that
things will not be harmonious, rejected divinity, failing physical capacities,
pissing myself. Maybe denial is easier. Just let me stand here like Tommy – deaf, dumb and blind. But, Tommy could play. Am I a player?
Suffering. Suffering
to be myself. A warrior, a player, chooses to define her/himself from the
others. Can I be hostile? Independent? Push back against the inclined table of
life? I can be hostile to the
amorphous, undefined!
I long for the One
Thing. The One Thing we have in our hearts, our True Self. The others told me
that real success was getting my
steel ball into the 1,000 Points Hole. Roll your ball into that Hole and score
big time, lots of lights, sounds and chatter. Woo-hoo! (“You get a replay!”)
And, then the 1,000 Points Hole ejects you, shoots you across the table.
That other thing which warms your
heart? That True Love? Where is that? Don’t seek that. There is no choice, they
say. Stick with the 1,000 Point Hole and replays. You are what you are, the
game is the game, the table is what it is, and that is that. True Self? True
Love? Not here. Not in this game. This is a closed system. There is no place to
go for that.
WHY AM I HERE?
I am here to awaken the True Self before I die. Before you die.
“Time,
time, time, see what’s become of me...” I am a child of the 60s in my 60s.
What time is it? Am I late for a very important date? “When the Moon s in the 7th House...” Is this the
dawning? I have I missed it? When was that Millennium? Y2K?
Is it ever too late to transform?
If you don’t transform yourself, life will transform you. So, you have to go
from the closed system to an open system.
If I am a steel ball, I am iron. Iron
is malleable with enough heat. With enough passion I will undergo the agony of
change. I will stand between the opposites where I’m normally not inclined to go, and feel the power of
resistance. Resistance to my passion cranks up the heat. With enough passion,
resistance and friction, I can change. Form a blade. A sword. The One Thing to
become, my new self. Someone who does not just roll mindlessly, who can
overcome the inertia of the past. A blade does not roll mindlessly. A blade
cuts you away from the amorphous which clings.
Change - the one precious thing to do - the act which grows more fierce
with each sun rise.
True Self awakens in the sphere of
cause. Outside the box. Off the table. Choose to be the gravity, your
self-motive. This is how we roll.
Copyright 2015, Jean W. Yeager
All Rights Reserved
TH3 SIMPLE QUESTIONS:
Slice Open Everyday Life
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