We Are Nothing but Stories, Made Flesh

We are nothing but stories, made flesh. Sure, to us, they’re important but even that is part of the decep because what is a book without a reader but an unactualized potential? In the same respect you are far more than you’ve been lead to believe by this multi-sensory deal with the wheel of time that constantly lures you back in for another spin after a swift bit of memory wiping. Ready, playa won?

Lets reel in them metaphysics a bit and bring it back in to this dimension. There is what happened in your life and the pieces that you picked to form your narrative. Imagine you have a huge box that is filled with pearls and some string, that is pretty much a great representation of your conscious imperience. Nobody tells you this. On the contrary they go to great lengths to keep it hidden because that ensures you’ll do the bidding of the voice in your head that pretends to be them. Thats a deeper topic, lets keep it simple for a bit.

This story, this narrative, can be empowering or the opposite. For many people it isn’t. This is actually what they’re attempting to run away from by virtue of outer accomplishment. For example you have the kid that was sexually abused and now is prolific when it comes to bedding women but is entirely unable to form any kind of connection because the idea of a link to his vulnerable aspects beyond the surface terrifies him. These pearls are filled with rage, pain, hurt and shame and they are arranged in the formative part of his chain and he has no conscious awareness of the damage that was done, back when. If you ask him he’d reject the hypothesis. From the outside looking in there are many men who would envy his position as getting and bedding attractive women for him is ridiculously effortless. Its what comes next thats the problem because if they want more than sex they come to a part that is off limits. For them and himself. Instead they’re just another notch on his belt, replaceable and functionally identical as self soothing coping mechanisms that are part of his adventure in the flesh and a hallmark of living the life unexamined that generally feels unfulfilled, no matter how many skins he hits.

There was a girl, once upon a when, who was born to addicted parents. Forget nurturing or attention as well as those standard things that thread to make the links of her formative experience. That wasn’t happening as they were all about themselves and whatever it took to get a hit. She actually ended up parenting them which was an immense strain on one so young as she fed and dressed herself then went to school for the release it brings. She excelled in academics because it drew her the attention and validation she craved. As she aged she raised the stakes and soon found her way into a rarefied space where the ends not only met but overlapped in excess as her talents and skills commanded a high rate. Once again, from the outside looking in, you’d think she had it made. Except she always felt like she was pretending. Like at any moment the walls would come crashing in and someone would point their finger and say “You don’t deserve this. You faker, you were born of addicts. You’re worthless” and all kinds of things that were said by that voice in her head as she walked around her mansion wondering how to fix this problem without drowning it in drink and a workload so big that she barely had a moment to think.

These examples are extreme but they are not uncommon. Everyone is doing this if they live the life unexamined and this is why they feel so unfulfilled as the past is always present until you’ve took some me time for introspection and decided to check on what they string and its true definition. This is what I mean about the coal that becomes a diamond. Its painful, there are no references, nobody can help and there is no guidance. Many fold under the pressure. There are plenty that could’ve contended but are now also rans instead. People will go to great lengths to deny the veracity of this but it might as well be written on their foreheads to one who has done the Knowledge. Why is this, I’m wondering. Its far too common, very well spread and affects pretty much everyone in this realm and yet no one questions it.

Well, I do. And have been doing so since not long after I stepped in. Can you remember the moment you realized your parents were once also children? It may seem Self evident now but there was a time when this was the first time you drew the link. My reaction was intense. “What happened?” barely scratched the surface because my intuition couldn’t link how they ended up like this, in a state I’d later term “Adulteration” as their point of view and way of living was so different to my Inner Sense that I knew I wanted no parts of it and would willfully resist whatever it was they’d accepted to end up like this. Deep thoughts for a child but you’d be surprised what goes on inside their heads because they don’t yet know the rules and thus are unaware if they break them. This is why there is a fine line between a madman and genius and why the true creative is often childlike in a sense whilst the rest run after baubles and trinkets on the chance they’ll make them feel something beyond being comfortably numb.

We are nothing but stories, made flesh. Its a cruel joke, an ironic trick. Sure there are plenty of things that pay lip service to the concept like “I’m a spiritual being having a human experience” but that doesn’t mean bills vanish or you click your fingers and find enlightenment. That word itself is interesting, isn’t it? It precludes the fact that one must already be in darkness hence if you find yourself in hell, keep going. Well, I have and did. Thats how I discovered the string of pearls that created the story of me in my head and used the Knowledge to help others break the chains and reprogram their internal OS. I looked at it and thought it was quite ridiculous and then started asking others to trace the template and tell me what they see. Some ran screaming for the hills as they said “I don’t want to do this” whilst others didn’t even attempt and shook their heads at a concept so ridiculous. A handful, like the above examples, had been pushed to the point where the only place to turn was within and they actually attempted it.

Its interesting how validation is such a common thread. The boy that was abused told his parents and they brushed it off and told him it was all in his head and not to be so stupid. The girl, on the other hand, never truly felt like she existed unless a teacher was giving her a pat on the head because at home she was little more than a live in servant. The scars of our formative years run deep and they often write the script we live in a childs painful scrawl that we slavishly accept. Go pick up a pad, a black and red pen. Speak to your Inner Sense and see what happens. This method may seem simple but its ridiculously powerful. Another one is the wallpaper strip which I’ve mentioned before as well where you take a long sheet of paper, stick it on the wall and mark your birth on a line up to the present moment and start filling in the bits and pieces you recollect. These are the pearls you’ve strung into a narrative but the ones that are too big for your current resolution will be marked by their absence but their presence can be felt via the influence they exert. Just look at the behaviors you engage in, usually repetitive, that bring some type of solution that never seems to last or move beyond the surface. There may also be related feelings of shame, inadequacy, worthlessness or the whole imposter syndrome as well. It can manifest in many ways, you can tell as they usually feel icky and you’ll go out of your way to avoid these states by piling on more coping mechs. Don’t. Get to know them instead. Feelsee into the presence, get familiar with the innerG. Sometimes you may feel the need to scream, yell, stomp your feet or protest. Do it. Better out than in. Others may discover the urge to sketch or paint, push the pen or strike up a deep conversation. Whatever it is, let it unfold. This is how you free yourself from arrested development and why the sages, back when, said the lotus blooms in the midst of the filth.

Rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the mess that were the pearls you’d chose to string without realizing you had an option and create a more empowering narrative. Granted, this is a very basic view of the entire process because undoing the mess of a lifetime habit via the story made flesh you constantly retell in your head isn’t a one and done thing but more akin to a process in which I use various techniques and methods that I call doing the Knowledge but, as your starter for ten, this will get you familiar with your inner realm and the states of innerG therein because your body is your subconscious and the processing power of the brain pales in comparison to how bright it once shined and can, yet again. Maybe then you too will hear the Psylense. Its a beautiful thing.

Me, I know I’m not the story but the one who is reading but also creating the tale as well based on the components available in the resonance of my awareness. That is a far more interesting and empowering way to live, don’t you think? Lifetimes come and go and yet I remain the same, unchanged. A true playa in this Game where we insert our Souls as credits to create another fable. Another story, made flesh, that we animate with our consciousness from one life to the next. We carry some interesting debts and credits from these interactions but that is a deeper topic. Simply put, the you that creates the view and makes all of this possible is identical and perfect, regardless of the situation or incarnation it is eternal and unchanging. This state I call the Witness and it truly is the key to everywhen but its gift can only be unwrapped in the present moment.

Transcendence, they call it. Interesting spell, isn’t it? How it implies you must be in an altered state of consciousness and the key to getting free is ending it.

The Game of Souls has you, my friend.

Till we meet again