An ego's work is never done

So William has been extra busy with Christmas, buying presents and sending cards and all that good stuff, while going through something totally new on a consciousness front that is hard to put a label on but definitely feels good, having to do with automatic acceptance of the content of his experience, plus being in love with the I in I, granting him an ease and spontaneity and self-confidence never seen before. He has felt immune to fear and ready to be a catalyst for worldwide renaissance/revolution if that’s the path the divine has in mind for him. He has also been sleepless every other night, due to overstimulation from undigested novelty and wild visions of the future, possibly also just an energy thing but in any case not something he has very much control over.

The word ‘enlightened’ has been thrown around, not in the context of this blog but in the day to day. That word is, I must say, one I take pains to avoid because it gives me a literal pain. It’s gotten so loaded with assumptions and associations and projections and judgments that it has become quite useless in normal conversation. But we’ll use it here anyway, just to kick it while it’s down. (grin)

They say it’s the attachment to the enlightenment experience that can trip people up. I’ve read that the experience comes and goes. The enlightened state of consciousness, on the other hand, is a permanent feature of consciousness itself, being just what it is in a pure form, unweighed by the mental burdens we lump together as ‘ego’. (I get frustrated with some of these labels. They don’t seem to help much.) Well, I was riding high on the wave, filled with an ineffable spirit of love and goodwill and bliss and all that, and I had been thinking to myself, “I wonder if this is permanent.” The fear, as it always will, tried to jump on that, but I was too full of good vibes and assurance to be near its line of fire. I soon got a nice synch telling me that, yes, this does go on to infinity and beyond. Amongst the traffic, two cars, one after the other, drove through the intersection where I waited to cross, both of them bearing ‘888’ on their license plates. This on a day when I had barely glanced at a license plate. Make of that what you will, but under the circumstances I was more than willing to accept it as a sign.

Fast forward to today. William is overtired and getting grumpy. He receives an addled text message that makes him out to be a ten-million-megaton narcissist and yadda yadda yadda, barely comprehensible insults. This hits close. William fears narcissism, he feels that egomania is a very close thing when faced with the kind of experience he has been having. Objectivity is suddenly not so easy to come by.

He takes the dogs out for their evening walk, feeling not exactly fearful, but just staying with his uneasiness and asking, out loud, for help. Soon enough, he is having a conversation with himself. Luckily, no one is around. This is nice, like therapy. A role play. He doesn’t identify with any of the voices speaking, but he can place their vibe by the way they make him feel.

“You’re not here to concern yourself with such things. You’re here to forgive them.”

“If you take personal credit for the good vibes you carry and what they achieve through you, then you will take personal blame when you don’t measure up to that standard. It’s not personal. You are a vessel for whatever qualities and aspects of consciousness are present and active in the moment.”

“Choose love. Lose yourself in it and there will be nothing left to identify with any shadows.”

Personal William – a figment of someone’s imagination – is still around, thinking he’s real. I suppose that will be true until it isn’t. Meanwhile, there’s a life to live, a dream to dream, and one ongoing opportunity to choose the one thing there is to choose....