Every essay I write is a new experience for me and for the reader—at least I hope that is the case! As I sat on the couch coughing away while trying to watch TV, I gave up and came in here to my trusty Mac. Fasten your seatbelts, here we go.
The ego is formed in order for the individual to fit in with a sleeping world. If we are lucky, at some point we break down and crawl on our hands and knees looking for some kind of magic talisman.
The first stop is usually a New Age bookstore, or at least that section in a regular bookstore. Back in the “Brick and Mortar Days,” I loved the smell of a good bookstore. I spent my precious money on every esoteric book I could get my hands on. I was looking for enlightenment. It was said that you could find it if you looked long enough and hard enough. What a joke!
I have never found enlightenment, which is a concept and concepts are useless if you are looking for true inner peace.
What I found is how bad off we all are, how miserable and inauthentic we are. And the internet is not the place to go looking for authenticity, now is it?
These days I spend my time in a rich and fertile silence, making nightly excursions into TV shows I enjoy. I just got a smart TV this year and I am thrilled with it. But most of the time I am alone with the silence.
Once you attain “un-enlightenment,” it is but a quick trip to enlightenment. Two letters, “U” and N” are removed by your spirit and now you discover your true nature. Don’t ask me what it is because it is beyond description.
Words are useless in your quest for enlightenment. Words are the booby prize. I write these essays with tongue firmly in cheek since I am bored silly by serious mental discussions of our true nature.
Let me just say that Vicki doesn’t know. She is concerned with her image and her neurotic attempts to improve it. But underneath Vicki lies the hidden treasure. The map is honesty and only the pure in heart can ever find it.
We are all on a mission to find God and He is incredibly skilled at hiding Himself, is He not?
Let me close this essay by saying that although we are hot on the trail, He will never be found. Now what kind of a God is that, wink wink, nudge nudge… You tell me and we’ll both know.
Vicki Woodyard