Magicians of deception

When asked for the truth, many of us take the middle road, selectively revealing some facts and leaving out others; creating the impression or illusion of a bigger picture that isn’t quite accurate.

Technically, it is possible to be forthcoming about the facts, but only in precisely measured quantities and careful arrangements with other facts, so that the reader or listener is left imagining a story that is more fiction than reality. This type of creative storytelling is at the center of today’s social discourse, to be found in politics, legal proceedings, news media, social media, and within our personal relationships.

Have we become like magicians to one another, hiding important truths through the use of misdirection? Has the “white” or “gray” lie become the status quo of human interaction, priming us for even darker lies?

Default justice

“Every man thinks God is on his side. The rich and powerful know he is.”
~ Jean Anouilh

The favor of the Gods is the ego’s illusion, until circumstances change, and one realizes that God, fate, karma, or random chance can take everything away in a moment’s time, including one’s fortunes and sometimes life itself. The higher the climb on the backs of others, the more disillusioning the fall when those backs shift position, as they always do.

Everything seeks its equilibrium point, moving from the low to the high, the high to the low, from side to side, and finally to the flat ground, where purposeful activity ceases and all is balanced again. This is life’s default form of justice: the birth, rise, fall, and eventual flatlining – an immutable process that nobody escapes, including the rich and powerful.

If a higher form of justice exists, and I hope it does, then maybe it rests upon this immutable default justice; our attitude towards it being the difference between being reborn as a worm or saint, or anything in-between.

Weight of the world

“I tell you solemnly, that I have many times tried to become an insect. But I was not equal even to that. I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness – a real thorough-going illness.”

~Fyodor Dostoevsky , Notes from the Underground

For the people who contemplate the convoluted complexities of life, there is a tendency to struggle with an existential anxiety and depression, sometimes to a disabling degree. It feels overwhelming to know how everything works, or think one does, leading to all kinds of paranoia and insecurities, including a sense of inevitability or hopelessness to change anything – the feeling that the dead weight of the world is upon one’s shoulders. And there is no cure for this, no medicine to transform the deep thinking soul into the simple-minded outlook of a task oriented human being, as Dostoevsky so elegantly pointed out with his insect metaphor.

Finding God

“The reason modern people can’t see God is that they won’t look low enough.”
~ Carl Jung

Our tendency is to conceptualize God as existing in some other place or dimension, not within the here and now. Our languages have exaggerated this perspective with opposing words, such as the mundane versus the sacred, earth versus heaven, science versus God, secular versus spiritual, probability versus faith, good or bad luck versus fate/karma, etc. Religion itself has given us the impression – intentionally or otherwise – of God being above or outside of us, rather than being an integral part of everything and everyone in the here and now.

Imagine a world where we recognize God within the food we eat, the dream we had last night, the stranger’s smile, the clap of thunder, the deer crossing the street, the silly stuff we share with a loved one, the blessing of waking up for another day of life, and a million other things we too often take for granted. Imagine seeing God in all of that!

Field trip

The lot of us roamed the state park, back and forth, like zombies searching aimlessly. We’d keep going until Liz – the activities coordinator – blew the whistle, and then we’d scramble back to the bus.

Lenny and Chip, the OCD sufferers, zigzagged the grounds in convoluted patterns, understood by them alone. Reminded me of the football patterns I ran with my mates behind Foley field, about 40 years earlier. The difference being that we never crossed into each other’s lanes in those days. But, Lenny and Chip crashed into each other at one point, almost coming to fists over it, before arriving at a compromise with my assistance.

“Avoidance is the key,” Lenny told me after calming down.

“Yep, stay in your own lanes, and all will be good,” I said. And I gave him a thumbs up. He smiled, gave me a pat on the back and continued his zigzag patterns. I felt validated from the pat.

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