Home of the Gods 2

The dream starts when we choose to enter this illusion. We decide to take a break from our lives back home and explore a deeper and darker aspect of ourselves. We imbibe the juices of an intoxicating dream state, one in which we forget the nature of our true self and enter a delusion we begin to believe.
Like the drugs we take here, we become unable to function coherently and our self-perceptions spiral into obscure uncertainty.
In time we grow addicted to the dream, enamoured with the identities we craft for ourselves with the delusions handed to us in our infancy. The beliefs forged in this inebriated stupor seem so important we refuse to let them go and begin to fear the unveiling and dissolution of our false self.
Gradually we lose sight of everything beyond the world we see, the life and experiences we form in response to the forms and scents encountered along the way. The totality of our past and projections of our future become impossible to see past or let go of.
And all the while our inner misery continues, our confusion grows as we grasp at straws, hoping to find some meaning, to fathom why this world always has to be so vague, so elusively nonsensical.
Sooner or later the addiction to this illusion becomes too much to bear. Our darkened minds have been deprived of light for too long and they begin to resist, struggle. We kick and scream to rise above the muck and get a fresh breath.
We reject the sedatives that keep us locked in our comatose suffocation. The addiction becomes the dog that chases, rather than the prey we pursue.
And when we reach out for light we find it’s waiting there for us, begging us to open up and allow it in, to breathe purity into our contaminated consciousness. The angels of mercy, the gods of healing and fertility, they meet our desperate hands with open arms and warm smiles.
These are the doctors of our home, wise and patient beings who lovingly tend to us in our slumber. They know the value of the experiences we have in this world, and the hardships required in order to attain those fruits, and they gladly wait on us to provide water to the thirsty.
If we choose, we can rise above this dream from within it. We can cast aside the bondage of our mental prisons and walk throughout our lives awakened, vessels of light filling the world with love. The reason we don’t is the addiction.
The beliefs and self-perceptions we hold seem so important we just can’t set them aside to embody the purity of our true self, the beautiful light we feel within us can never be fully embodied when we choose to identify with our learned falsehoods.
But nonetheless, the gods watch over us, waiting for us to remember who we are and where we come from.
When you plant a flower it grows with the knowledge that it already is beautiful and when it gets old enough it begins to embody the beauty it feels within.
Children are the same way. We’re all born knowing the truth, knowing how beautiful we are, knowing we’re divine. But a baby’s mind can’t contain that much memory as it tries to fathom the bizarre world around it and make sense of it all, so the truth becomes obscured.
Over time we get taught all the psychological distortions of the world around us, and we rarely get a chance to become the flower we were supposed to be.
But that divine spark still remains inside us. It can never be separated from you because it’s who you truly are.
The inner child is that seed. We are at our purest in our childhood. We haven’t yet been tainted by the distortions taught to us by adults, we see the world with joy and love, with creativity and wonder. This is the true nature of our people.
But we forget. The pain builds and gradually we close our hearts. Our consciousness closes and folds into itself, becoming constrained and confused. And gradually we become stuck in the addiction.
And so, we stay trapped here, reincarnating again and again until we figure it out. Until we awaken and remember who we are, but that takes dedication that most simply don’t have. We’ve been so filled with clutter that clearing it all out is simply too much work. Too much pain to deal with.
It takes courage to turn inwards and seek the truth of the self. Courage; la corazon; un fleur dans la coeur, mes amis.
But when we do, we find we are supported, held, guided, loved. Every step of the way.
So we can wake up. And go home.