Light Bulbs

This is Angry Tablecloth, back at last!  Pardon the absence.  I went on a pilgrimage to the moon.  I highly recommend it to anyone in need of a little spiritual calibration.  It was a worthwhile trip, oh, but how I have missed you!  How are things?  You look well.  New haircut?  Been working out?  Whatever you are doing, keep it up!  Alright, so I cannot actually see you.  Kiss my ass if you think I’m trying to kiss yours!  I don’t care what you think about whether I care about what you think about me!  Right, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, it’s time to get down to business.

The path to complete self awareness is not without some potentially unexpected turns.  An ambivalent state of limbo can manifest if the pursuit is halfhearted – a disconnection between deed and mentality, as a tug of war within the heart unfolds.  A tumultuous transition period can constrict one’s perception, in the attempt to expand the mind, and further awaken the senses.  Let’s explore this with a simple analogy, shall we?

Say you enjoy looking at risqué postcards of half naked women from the 1930’s.  As pleasurable as this pastime is, you start dating someone in the search for what you consider to be deeper meaning, and eventually you become their one and only as they are yours.  Then an inkling to entertain yourself with the images of lovely, sunbathing ladies in one piece swimsuits arises.  You indulge this urge, but there is no stimulation, as before.  You stare at the pictures with such intensity, it is as if you are trying to use x-ray vision, as if skeletons are now a turn on, but the thrill is fretfully gone.  You wanted a new direction while continuing down the same path, and now you are a victim of fairness and reason.  Instead of letting go of what was which would amplify the pleasure of what is, you continue trying to revitalize feelings from the past, to the detriment of now.  One day this indecisiveness causes your beloved to break what is now a precarious bond, to your dismay, and worse yet, the pleasures of past still do not return, manufacturing confusion and grief from what could have been a contrary state.  Or maybe your partner does not care if you look at another person’s ass, as long as you are not trying to break eye contact, while they tell you their mother just died.  Or maybe you discover enlightenment at a 70’s style key party.  I’m not here to judge.  There are too many grand scale issues to concentrate on, for me to take issue with every person’s personal tastes and preferences.  This is just one scenario.  But cheer up, little bee, if my example is your truth.  You are never alone, if you can see how.  The wonders of everything and everyone are inside of you, expanding to everywhere, waiting to be unlocked, and can be done so even through contrasting states.

Growing up does not mean you can’t have fun playing games, but there is a more substantial gratification to be found if you are capable of putting the toys down, and never looking back if need be.  But there are other issues that can make a waking mind desire the comfort of sleep.

Sure, there are charlatans reading the palms of soccer moms for a fast buck, and see-it-alls with crystal balls whose desire to cash in is as transparent as the cheap glass they peer into, but what if someone were disclosing their knowledge to others, (spiritual, political, social, or otherwise) because they do not want to be the only light bulb in the firing range?  The king cannot execute you for knowing how to read if the entire town is literate.

What if the boogeyman only comes out the closet, because the noise of you stirring causes it to?  But how can one defend or escape if not awake?  What if there is no escape, and being asleep at least ensures a peaceful end?  I choose to have my head high, on alert for wolves, instead of down in the feedbag where my vision is limited, but I am not here to dictate what is right for others.  I know enough about myself to handle “knowing too much” about the world, if that ever happens to be the case.

If you are among a bunch of lemmings racing towards a cliff, it might be best to stand alone and speak up.  If you are among an angry mob carrying torches, it might be better not to say, “Frankenstein is just misunderstood,” unless you are prepared for a pitchfork to the eye.  The prongs of a pitchfork flung towards the eye of Buddha transform into lotus pedals, before reaching the cornea.

“What gives you the right to tear down these walls, I spent the time and energy to build?”  “The same thing that gave you the right to build them around me.”  We focus on the barriers the spirits of the past have torn down, in the name of prosperity, like Gandhi or MLK, but those past ghosts are reincarnated in the present, and they need equal, if not more support and attention.  I believe many of us belittle, and reduce the greatness within rising stars when opportune, because we fear being overshadowed by another in front of the spotlight, not understanding that our support allows us to shine brighter from within.  (From the start of this blog I’ve been trying to promote the magnificence in all of us.)

There are ways to overcome and combat fear, greed, and ignorance, but to do so is to contest those who profit from it.  To promote the potential greatness and intelligence within the “average person” is to destroy the work of Edward Bernays, and those who still utilize his tactics.  But there are no monsters coming for those who sit in silence, in an attempt to expand the mind, and nothing more, and those at the peak of conscious being are not threatened by those trying to instill fear.  Those who would suppress the answers for personal gain never truly had the answers to begin with.  They might have the book, but they cannot interpret the messages properly.  I cannot share every letter of my alphabet, but there are codes in the world for those who can read between the lines, and fill in the blanks.  The answers await those who already possess them.

And that concludes this post.  It is good to be back, that’s for sure.  Do not fear, for your friendly neighborhood tablecloth is not going anywhere for a very long time.  I’ll keep splashing cold water on sleeping faces, until  I no longer have the strength to hold a bucket.


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