The Other Way Around

You didn’t come here to make a choice.
You’ve already made it.
You are here to try to understand why you made it.

What if I told you that you already know the answer to every question, the solution to every riddle, the end to every chapter, act, and play? What if I said that the mysteries of the universe were no more recondite than the contents of your stomach or what lines the floor of Chesapeake Bay?

All you have to do is look.

Sounds a bit far-fetched, doesn’t it? Perhaps a little droll? Perfect for a roll of the eyes but not good for much more. But bear with me through this rhyme, old boy, indulge me if you would. Let’s take a gander beneath the sheath and meander through some woods.

Of the metaphorical variety, of course.

The greatest lie that ever was, the oldest fable, biggest farce, is that the world is out there, separate from us — and it’s our job to parse the code, learn the modes, agonize and analyze, strategize and organize everything into a perfectly synchronized, oversimplified, polished life of servitude.

But I’m here to tell you, that ain’t so.

The truth is stranger than fiction, weirder and more twisted than you think. It has wings. The truth requires mental stretching, intra-cleaning, introspection, dedication and volition, hearing the truth, being honest, facing trauma, chakras, mantras, and all manner of stranger things.

Montaukproject nod.

Ever read Plato’s Allegory of the Cave? Probably so, but a quick refresher never hurt. So these people, they were born there, yea? They knew nothing about the outside world. And all they ever saw as life’s real thralls, was the swirling kaleidoscope of their own shadows dancing on the walls.

Seeing is believing, bitch.

Here’s the thing: when it comes to decoding the enigma of the world, the meaning of life, we’ve got it backwards, got it all twisted and bound. Because in order to understand the world, we must look inward, for we can only know the truth of what is if we start the other way around.

Reality is forged in the furnace of the mind.

There’s no such thing as ‘real’, but only what you see, and those properties transform from one to the next. Look around you — at your life, at your community, at the world — and realize that the complexity of it all is borne of your internal desires, fears, manifestations, and specs.

It’s a lot to take in, I know.

Everything that’s ever happened, the entire history of the world — the past, the present, the future — is coded into your DNA. You are Stardust. A simulacrum with source-code access to backdoor bypass the psychological firewall and have a peek under the proverbial beret.

Everything you could ever want, or be, you already have, and are.