Category: Confessionals

Good Friday III

Fateful Friday

This is my 3rd ‘Good Friday’ post. I can’t decide if it’s fate, or habit. I wonder how many times have I sat here and wrote these words you’re reading right now?

According to some scientists the universe is approximately 13.8 Billion years old, the earth, only 4.54 Billion years. It’s estimated that mankind is only 1.8 million years old.  The average lifespan for a human being is approximately 80 years (depending on where you live). Although it hasn’t been proven, most believe there’s a cyclical nature to life, a never-ending loop.  Whether I’ve repeated myself a few thousand times, or you’re reading this for the first time, in either case, its quite miraculous. The follow up question is, “What comes next?”.

If only it were possible to see beyond the line of time to the curve ahead that brings me back to the start. I can’t help but make striking connections to how fate plays it’s hand as I try to live in multiple worlds (fictional and non-fictional).  Swiss psychoanalyst and theoretician Carl Jung suggests that when an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside, as fate. That is to say, suppressing conflict within your subconscious, the world naturally seeks balance and must manifest the conflict for an individual to deal with consciously. Therefore, if all aspects of the psyche, especially the darker impulses are not engaged, the universe will create circumstances to bring them to the light: The divided psyche must be dealt sooner or later to move from a state of inner chaos to peace.

As I dig deep into these fictitious character’s I’ve created, craft their story, and decide their fate. I can’t help but wonder if they know mine. Perhaps in exchange for giving life, they offer a glimpse of what’s to come for me.


Forgive Me Father, For I Have Sinned ;)

Sins of the Father Redux

For the purpose of this post I’m removing the religious connotations and moral precepts attached to the word ‘sin’. Borrowing from influential Metaphysics teacher Neville Goddard, it simply means ‘to miss the mark’. By not being the person I was meant to be, ‘I’ve missed the mark’– I’ve ‘sinned‘…

I’ve wondered if my parents grew into the people they were meant to be. There are a select few ways of knowing for certain if who they are now is who they were supposed to be.  Being separated by a generation I assumed they had more wisdom than I did, and possibly would acquire more throughout their lifetime. However, through the vicarious living, and not so subtle suggestions of what to do with my life, it seems perhaps they’ve missed the mark, but want to see that I hit mine.  It’s difficult to know who I’m supposed to be when I’ve only recently figured out who I am. Furthermore, I must remember that I can’t remain static: who I am won’t change, but who I’m supposed to be may change from time to time.

Though I’ve stated my parents were hilarious scary immigrants, I believe they did the best they could with the resources and levels of awareness available to them. However, I’ve also wondered, if my father didn’t become who he was meant to be how it would have affected me. And if I didn’t become who I was meant to be how that would affect him. My father is the strong silent type, with a plethora of good ideas, but doesn’t always articulate them clearly. Though we don’t share the same perspectives on many societal issues, I respect his position and sometimes enjoy discussing them. Yet, before I was able to grasp complex social concepts, I perceived much of what was communicated to me as boring lectures. I would’ve much rather been playing outside, or chasing girls, but even those options became lectures. The lectures went in one ear, and out the other but, before they evacuated my conscious mind they swirled around my subconscious, leaving behind faint whispers.

Growing up, I struggled with the inner conflict about who I was, who I was meant to be, and who I wanted to be. When the moment arrived that I became consciously aware I turned into my father, it was a wave of emotions. Who I was, who I was meant to be, and who I wanted to be didn’t match up. Echoing in my mind were the sins of my father, the sins of others, and sins of my own. The years spent defying my parents, and trying not to turn into them came back around. The harder I resisted, the more I completed the transformation. It was scary. So I finally let go, and stopped fighting it. I embraced it, and learned who they were, who I was, and who I could be.  Afterwards the real change occurred, and I was ‘saved from sin’.

The Greatest Trick The Devil Ever Pulled 3

The Greatest Trick The Devil Ever Pulled 3: The Long Con

Having assumed The Devil would return for a last showdown, I was shocked and relieved we hadn’t crossed paths for a while.  In my weakened state I figured the best time for him to strike would’ve been now, ‘the present moment’.  Preparing for The Devil’s arrival, I armed myself with what little patience, and humility I had remaining.  I believed it would’ve been his biggest and final attempt to assume control of me, my soul or whatever it was he desired: because of his ethereal nature, I was still ‘in the dark’ about what his pursuit was all about…  But I was about to find out.

Toiling deep in the depths of the frontline, I continued serving wave after wave of glazed-eyed visitors while waiting for The Devil to show.  Becoming increasingly impatient, I grew more angry inside.  I called out for help and waited, but no one came.  Again, the thought that ‘God had forsaken me’, echoed in my mind.  I continued waiting and serving, becoming more irritated by the very people I was serving.  My reserve of humility and patience diminished–  No longer was I of service to others; I became a destructive force to them.  Consumed with the rage building inside, I crossed the threshold into contained wrath, but I was unaware of the shift.  Again I called out for help.  Nothing.  Infuriated at the injustice, I lost all control and spun into a rage of pure self loathing.

Believing it was a ploy to weaken me further, I cranked up the humility, but it was all just for show.  Preparing to fight when The Devil didn’t even show made me feel as though I wasted both my humility and patience.  “These are useless gifts”, I exclaimed, storming out of the heated atmosphere at the end of the day.  Placing my ’employee keys’ in the locker, I looked at them with contempt.  I hated them– They were a symbol of slavery to a customer service nightmare I lived day after day.  Although I know all work is God’s work, secretly I believed the work I was doing was completely shameful for someone of my status… But, I also believed if I did this work I considered beneath me, I would remain humble– And for me, to remain humble meant the rejection of financial abundance, as it might rob me of my humility.

Unbeknownst to me The Devil used the very thing I prided myself on not only to keep me locked in a state of shame for years, but also to hide the ‘keys to the kingdom’, in plain sight no doubt.  He used my fear of losing humility to keep me away from the greatest reward of all…

Indeed this was the greatest trick The Devil ever pulled, and just as I began to applaud his crafty genius, I heard a humble yet powerful voice calling to my spirit…

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