Needing No One

The air crackled alive with electricity. Not daring to look on the inside, I searched frantically for any external cause. Seeing nothing, I thought about what it actually meant to not need anyone.

The temperature rose. I felt uneasy and clammy. Thoughts hung draped in the stale breath of eternity. Incredible hatred erupted at the very existence of others for not caring what was happening to me. I tapped into my mental reserves with the expressed intent of purging each and every one of them from my mind and making them pay for what was happening to me. A feeling arose, but I swatted it off like a cow a pesky fly. From where I sat, people had always been the source of my problems – they mattered only as much as I wanted them to. Without feeling they were nothing more than strangers. And so began the slow methodical process of purging each and every one of them from my mind. One by one they came and went. I felt freer and more alive. Now they existed only as physical forms reminding me of my sins.

There were others who’d tied me down too: friends, acquaintances and the like. Like a kid in a candy store, I toyed with them one by one as they fell slowly out of sight and out of mind. My eyes burned with flames of searing passion. My power came back to me after years of self-imprisonment. Now without the incessant interruptions of others, I allowed it to consume me.

A good friend’s face appeared and I licked my lips on the feast to be. Then he was no more. I gulped, then freaked as though I’d murdered him in some strange way. What was wrong with me? Others appeared and disappeared in rhythmic unison with each breath. I tried to stop it and slow it down, but it took on a life of its own. I tried not to breathe, move or think. Overwhelmed by nauseous dizzy feelings, I spun out of control. Clawing my way back to some level of sanity, I came face with what I’d dreaded all along – family. I knew enough to know that family was God and that each and every one of us was one family under and of God, regardless of our interpretation of Him/Her/It. I didn’t want to throw them, myself or God away. In a desperate attempt to avoid unnecessarily manifesting any new hells, I clamped onto my mind with whatever remained of my reserves. Yet, still they seeped through the cracks in my defenses and were gone.

With my head hung low, shame erupted casting everything out from the depths of my being until nothing remained, not even me. Without a sense of self, shame existed in its entirety revealing the penetrating depths and hold it had on my life. So much shame: for letting go, for the insignificance I’d placed on my life, for what I’d done to others, for what I hadn’t done, and for the years of being alone in my shame. Stunned, I now stood absolutely alone, in a bittersweet darkness where pitch black was but a shade. I’d got what I’d asked for; I didn’t need anyone – no one, not a soul.

Even if I had been throwing people away all my life, why did it matter if I was all alone? Puking in some distant dimension of my being, reverberations cascaded into the present. I spat out the taste of acidic bile and writhed in screaming pain. I couldn’t believe I’d actually made a scene, but it was the only way to get it out of me. But there was more…. Feeling naked, vulnerable and prone to the stark truth of existence, terror was but a symbol for the fear I felt. In my pure, whole and absolutely self-contained existence I now saw how I’d thrown everyone away when my excuses wore thin, they’d got too close and could see my imperfections and my ‘not-enoughness’.

Outside the realms of time and space, teardrops fell from eyes wide as saucers down my cheek before splashing onto the ground according to the mathematical equations of fluid dynamics. Teardrops holographically encoded with the totality of pain and suffering from my past, present and future lives. Eyes that had once seen little now saw all from their cold, lonely perch. A wind so cold blew through me with such force that I longed for the warmth of loneliness. But I’d forgotten: loneliness only existed where there was someone to be lonely for. I no longer needed anyone.

I cried no tears – there was nothing to cry for anymore. I couldn’t be with me, feel me or think me … I was no longer I. According to Krishnamurti life was relationship and I’d gone against every spiritual and religious principle I’d ever known. I didn’t want to be part of a world not needing or relating with anyone. How could I express myself when there was no thing to express myself with, to or for? Hurt became another tolerable hell for I could see you, but didn’t need you. So, I had no reason to say or do anything with or for you. Feeling so empty, transparent and ghost-like, the very sight of people was hellish punishment for my sins against humanity. I wanted to go back and make amends, but I didn’t know how. Alone, needing no one, I imploded and passed out.


© Michael J. Varma, The Gong Show, 2011 –

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