The Truth & Other Lies

From time to time, someone asks me what this means, usually with a nod & a wink, as though they understood some secret covert agenda that I, too, was aware of, and dared to expose here, on this unfettered and easily available site. This always unnerves me a bit, as I'd hate to think there were some shadowy revolutionary group, waiting for ME to offer guidance. There are days when it's a challenge to drink water without spilling it. So much for Fearless Leader. The Truth is, and I can say this with all honesty and conviction, because I've seen it, that everything we know is a lie. Everything. Now I'm quite sure that there are those who find this humorous, and are breathlessly waiting for the punchline to the joke. I'm not kidding. I'm equally sure that there are those who find this irritating, and are wondering just who in the hell do I think I am, telling them that their own beliefs are lies. I'm still not kidding. But these people are closer to the answer. Or maybe not. Think about that statement; Everything We Know Is A Lie. The first problem is the 'we'. There is no such thing. Then of course, there's knowing, which is probably the realest concept in the bunch, but not in the way this statement intends it. So please allow me to offer an explanation, a differing viewpoint, if you will, about THINGS IN GENERAL.... On close inspection, I am not a human. That title accurately categorizes me in to a group of animated objects that others can recognize and associate with preformed thoughts and expectations, and that group of animated objects can be reduced to a smaller set by adding 'male' and 'American' and 'Caucasian' and even 'musician' (although their humanity is often questionable, I'm told). What I am, just like everything else in existence, is a collective of sub-atomic particles, (protons, neutrons and electrons for those who slept through science class)in motion, suspended in a field of energy. These thin out as we move from one field of mass to another, but the collective field of energy is, how shall I put this, the Fabric of the Universe, the canvas on which these particles are painted, so to speak. There are those who even say this Unified Field has it's own consciousness, and rules for our behavior and punishment in a hot place if we break it's rules. I have my doubts about all that, but not here, not now. I tend to gravitate towards the belief system that this collective energy does have an awareness, and that awareness is plugged in to multitudes of collective particles, and gleans perception out of each and every one of them, to make up the entire collective awareness. Except most of these collectives of energy & sub-atomic particles start to believe that THEY are the begin & end all of awareness and perception, and then they start to make up rules as to how everybody should behave, and la dee daa, that's how we wind up in this mess we're in now. Here's a thought, next time someone says something ridiculous like, "We're the only intelligent life in the Universe!" We're fucking blind. We can't even see other objects, never mind other lives. All we see is light reflected. That's right, like in magician's show, or images coming out of a TV set, light from the Sun, or some artificial device, bounces all over the place, finally hitting some object or surface, and bounces in to our retinas, gets received by the brain and recognized by our trained monkey of a mind set to be accepted as what we're told to believe it is. But all we really see is light reflected, like bats use the bounce of their own high pitched squealing to learn where walls and openings are. And in this perceptional state, we see light bouncing off a collective group of sub atomic particles in motion, and call it Jack. Or Jill, whose particles are much more appealing to Jack & myself. We are trained from birth to believe in these images, in things like Death, as the particle collective dissolves back in to the universal energy and matter pool, and as the perception we receive is shut down and returns to the collective consciousness, to observe a greater consciousness on a different level. There are a multitude of these trained beliefs, like that people of different colors or languages are 'from out there', or that some of these collectives are more deserving or more pious than others. How very silly, you say, I know, but somehow, it does happen. From time to time, these ideas catch fire with one mindset or another, and they give it a name, and hold up some representative particle collective with a name, and declare this person The One & Only who can perceive this entire concept at work. Yeah, I know, that's even more ridiculous, but it happens, too. A lot. Sometimes, these different mindsets will try to prove that they, and only they, really see how connected we all are by killing some of the collective off, and proclaiming it the Will Of The Everything. I wonder how my foot would feel if my hand shot it for not being a hand, all in the name of making me a better human. I'm guessing the ensuing limp would not be the results I was looking for. Anyway, my alarm goes off in the morning and sings a little song. It sings that we are all the same great spirit, dreaming that it is billions of planets and solar systems and people and a whole bunch of other stuff. It looks out through as many eyes as there are that day, and answers to as many names (except the mean bad ones. Nobody answers to those, I hope) as there are, and continues to Spin The Great Wheel around the Great Magnet, or whatever self contained universal consciousness does all day. I get up from my soft pile of molecular pillows, and drag my representative collective of sub atomic particles to the bathroom mirror, and look at a reflection of a reflection. The mirror shows me light bouncing off of a bazillion collective particles that some have come to know as Lord David. I stare at this and review the thoughts and beliefs that I've trained my mind to accept since birth, the ones I learned along the way, and the ones I'm going to encounter today, which may change the whole shootin' match. I struggle to recall the Book Of Lies that we use as our guide posts through life, and wonder if that day, like many other days, I can carve a bit more of that book loose from my thoughts, and let some more light in, make some more room, remember a bit less, and believe a bit more. I often think of returning to my molecular pillows, to dream of free floating in the Universe, watching galaxies spin and explode, stars burning in different colors of light that go shooting through space for millions of eons after they cease to exist, of concepts so grand and wonderful that they could never fit inside our tiny human heads without pushing out all of the lies that we tell ourselves we know to be true. And I think that might not be such a bad thing, after all.