Why Not Eat a Can of Frosting?

What if there was no one and nothing watching over you? If you knew that there was no cosmic, higher judgment. It was all: if you take a newspaper, leave a quarter. But on a Universal, Cosmic scale.
We want someone watching over us. We want to feel we're being watched over, even if that means manufacturing guilt. We want to abdicate our power, our birthright.

We make ourselves feel guilt because deep down we know, in Reality, there is no guilt, there is nothing to feel guilty about, That we are truly innocent. That there are no moral or ethical consequences. All that is made up; an overlay.

But more, there is no one, no GOD watching over us. Judging us, Approving or Disapproving. Nothing watches over us. Things, experiences happen and ripples are formed, but there are no “repercussions” of right and wrong.

What if there were no “consequences" – no cosmic, religio-spiritual punishment? (In Groundhog Day Bill Murray’s character says this. I think about ALL the things he did to everyone in every possible combination and ways for all the YEARS he was there.) I think people are afraid to realize there is no higher authority.

I can say that I am free and that I can do anything I want and know what that means and all that goes along with it. I think most people would freak out if faced with that. Yet that truth is as true for them as me. We are all free.

They would scream in fear and terror that if they could do anything they want they would do it to excess and society would fail and so on. But, really, I don’t see that as automatically following.

Just because I KNOW I can do anything, doesn’t mean I will automatically do it.
Amsterdam may be (have been) a good example. While soft drugs were easily available, the locals rarely partook and then in light moderation - it’s all the tourists coming from areas w/ tighter drug laws that created all the issues.

So, do something that you have always thought you would get in trouble for. A classic one seems to be: eat a can of frosting. Or 10 Twinkies. And see what happens when we do the one thing(s) we’ve thought or been told or believed would cause the world to end, and the world keeps spinning.  Because, really, no one is watching and no one cares. It’s all perfect. All of it. Even the nasty bits.

We want to feel we matter, that we are special enough to deserve attention, and if that means punishment along with it, then so be it.

I’ll take being a "Free Nothing"  over that any day.

One Day

On a day that may have come and gone
or never was or never can be
a bird may be singing,
a raindrop slides down a window
a plate breaks
a cat brushes your leg
you pick up your keys
or turn on a light
and
you will forget to remember to be you
and
in that moment, everything will change even as nothing changes
you will be you no longer
but ever more so

I’d had enough for one day, so I put my computer to sleep, turned off the lights and left. I didn’t even bother to pick the quote for our next meeting. I am pretty lazy these days. Unless I have a set task laid out in front of me, I tend to just drift, do the least possible to get by and goof off a lot. I often act in the last moment and things take care of themselves. I don’t aspire to anything or desire anything or have a need to improve myself. I don’t believe in reincarnation or an after life, not to mention heaven or hell. I know that the universe is perfect, that “I” am taken care of, I don’t live in fear of my creator, to put it in gross religious terms, and I no longer need to seek for that which I am.

I also know that the universe is, all evidence to the contrary, empty. There are no separate beings with volition and choice, God doesn’t sit back and watch. In fact there is no God, in the sense most people mean. Any sense of separation is just an illusion, a belief, a getting lost in the content of awareness. I don’t really get lost in the content anymore, or not for long, and so I live with a pretty strong sense of detachment from almost everything. The only thing I like to talk about is spiritual awakening; so I make for pretty single-minded dinner conversation. And, since the nature of what I talk about is so foreign, if not downright threatening to so many, I don’t tend to go and ”hang out" with a crowd. I am pretty much a recluse.

But, this evening I wanted a nice glass of scotch and felt the urge to drop by a local bar, which was unusual for me, as I said.

I walked into the bar and took a seat on one of the bar stools. Far enough away from everyone else and the TV, but still close enough to get served promptly. I don’t go out in public much or often but this bar had a good choice of single malt scotches.
I asked for a Languvulin instead of my usual Laiphroag. Neat, with an ice water back. I dropped few drops of water in the scotch and watched the pattern they made. Random, and yet, the water and the scotch interacted with each other – one was defined by the shape of the other. Like pouring milk into coffee and watching the shape it takes against the coffee. One defining the other. Like most questions of this nature, the answer is not as important as the questions. And, the question forms or determines the shape of the answer. Again, like the form of milk in coffee.
I was just sitting there, contemplating the glass of scotch when I noticed the guy next to me looking at me.

I just let it go. It happens. My energy is odd in some ways. People notice me and don’t know why. I do, but why tell them. I glanced over up and looked him over. Dark hair and eyes that I can only describe as crisp. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown. Rather, his face seemed neutral, yet somewhat intent. Odd that I hadn’t noticed him when I’d sat down. He was seated right next to me and I would never choose a seat next to another person if I could avoid it. The bar had been mostly empty when I came in and I thought I had sat down with no one next to me. Like I said: odd.
After a while I heard him say “Hi.”
I said “Hi” back and went on looking into my scotch.
He kept looking at me.
Fine, whatever, I thought, I’ll play.
“Yes, can I help you?” I asked.
He said, “I know why so few of you are free.”
“Excuse me?” This was a different way to open a conversation, I thought.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. ‘Free.’ As in Free from the belief you are a person, a…” He paused, and looked upwards, like he was trying hard to recall an obscure term.
“A separate self.”

I was impressed. There are only a few people who would even understand what he was saying, I was one of them, and here he starts a conversation like this. But I wanted to make sure.
“Could you say more about that?”

“By free I mean what you mean. Awake, dying while alive, Enlightened.”
I inwardly cringed. I don’t really talk about my current state anymore, and never use the E word, so I was surprised.
“OK, why?” I asked. Might at least see where he was going with this.
“Earth is the only planet where the sentient beings cling to ego-identification and ignorance of non-dual oneness past the age of six. In all other systems we learn to overcome the ego-addiction. Only on earth does this not happen. A few of you manage to do it later, mostly by luck – happening on the right combination of skills and techniques – as you have - and this has formed the basis of your entire religious and spiritual teachings. It’s easy for us to spot those who are awake and that’s what drew me to you.”
“Earth?” I inquired. I started to sense where this was going, but I wanted to hear the words.
He just smiled and sipped his drink. It was his turn to wait.
“That means…” I continued.
“Yes" He replied.
I ordered another drink. For each of us. This looked to be a long night.

Superman is a Space Alien

While watching the movie Superman Returns a while ago I was struck by how detached Superman seemed. At first I attributed it to a poor acting job (and it may well be that) but then it occurred that perhaps the actor was playing him correctly. It makes sense to think that Superman would be detached from the normal, daily, "trivial" cares and concerns of mortals. Superman is not human. He is a space alien, same as E.T., the girl-thing in Species and the creature in Alien or Predator. He is, as long as he stays under our yellow Sun, effectively immortal. Aside from looking humanoid, he has very little in common with humans. He didn’t ask to be here - he was sent here. Where else is he going to go? His biological father (and adopted one as well) laid the whole service trip on him. He didn’t ask for it. (But look at the first Superman movie - when he is forbidden to interfere in the lives of humans. Yet does just that at the end to save Lois’s life. So he’s willing to forsake his taught upbringing for what matters most to him. His wants come first. It’s not altruism, he’s being selfish.)

This appears to be true of Hancock as well, the recent movie with Wil Smith that did not do well at the box office. I can see why. Most people (see below) either can’t relate or reject the notion that immortals wouldn’t care about their trivial daily dramas. I loved the movie. I thought it a very accurate portrayal of how it is to be an immortal living amongst those who believe they are mortal. They take for granted that Superman would care about them, want to be like them. This is in contrast to Data on Star Trek, who is also effectively immortal, but has the non-biological-creature-Pinocchio-delusion and wants to be human, and constantly tries to act like a person.

But this "person" is an illusion, an ongoing "learned" process of sustained belief in a personal free-will separate self, painstakingly, tiresomely maintained with a myriad of reminders, cues, and self-imposed constraints: stories, pictures, emotional, family and friend connections, beliefs, thoughts and religio-spiritual delusions. Underneath all that, what is there, exactly? This process can be seen through and pierced, though not easily. Breaking free of ones’ programming is the hardest thing there is. Which is why it is seen as a "super-human" feat (pun intended?)
Many say they want it, but few truly do. Superman and Hancock, like Data are ultimately alone though not necessarily lonely.