Higher Sense of Self
Pushing aside any residual fears, I warmed up for the task at hand by exercising my motor skills with well-timed arm swings, faster paced walks and practice runs up and down alleyways. Funny how I’d been afraid to be seen, but now armed with a higher cause things felt different – even natural. Next, I turned to my mind. It felt a little shaky, but even that was an improvement over past states. A gentle slap on the face reaffirmed my sense of touch; the rank smell of garbage: my sense of smell. Although my hearing appeared fine, I kept my guard up nonetheless. For some unknown reason, sight was the hardest one to trust. Maybe because of it was the primary sense, but that too presented a double edged sword. Another paradox: being cut on either side of the sword or daring to walk its long sharp blade. But what if I didn’t move? Tuning my entire being into reading people’s energies and motives a dark menace tempted me to prod it, but I knew better than to go poking around a bee’s nest.
Even deeper was another presence that appeared to be listening, talking, thinking, remembering and becoming aware of itself. Straining for clearer reception, I adjusted my angle of perception until a child appeared from behind some large obstacle. Then I heard a single voice. Unlike the multiple voices of before, it sounded powerful in a non-threatening manner and full of wisdom that resonated security. But the uncanniest feeling of all was its familiarity. I stood in awe at my new-found friend.
My mind raged away, yet each blizzard of responses was contextually correct for the question asked. It was as though there wasn’t just one answer! For example, a seemingly simple question like ‘why were people so stupid?’ was answered with: they didn’t know who they really were; were lost; hadn’t yet learned or simply didn’t know any better as opposed to a flippant ‘because they were‘. Allowing my mind to duel it out with my new voice, I turned my attention to what was transpiring on other dimensions. Then I saw the difference! While I was trying desperately to win some kind of battle by being right and victorious, the other one answered away gently, non-judgmentally and non-critically needing to be neither right nor wrong in the process.
On another level, I was reacting to being dismissed on the sole premise of being gay. While defending and proving I wasn’t gay didn’t feel right and was tantamount to lying, I did what came naturally and tried to figure out what made them inquire in the first place. What started out as an innocent search turned into a twisted game of defensive posturing when my own fearful and secretive behaviors were added to the mix. In hindsight, it led to a more holistic search for truth and meaning, but there was a big difference between choosing a side in a never-ending battle of defend-attack and genuine self-acceptance. Lost in a world of assumptions, Voltaire spoke from the grave: ‘I disagree with what you have to say, but defend to the death your right to say it‘?
Armed with those words of wisdom, the nearer I got to civilization the noisier it became. People chattered away using their voices out of mechanical convenience rather than originally and truthfully. Vehicles, stores, everything contributed to a blazing noise that was literally deafening in its magnitude. Having fought my whole life for universal truths, the urge to turn back and take the easy way out made its4elf available as a choice. Every step of the way presented new choices. Even going back held choice: to return to the past with no home, no one to talk to, understand and comfort me. With all choices a step forward or at least sideways and never backwards, I kept on going to wherever my final destination would be.
On the route ahead, cars sped towards me and then away from me, passing in obvious disgust at my existence and refusal to accept life on their terms. Feeling duped, people leered and the incessant chatter began to fill my mind with renewed fears of exposure. Avoiding people as best I could, I was gently coerced forward through alleyways by some unknown guiding force towards Davie and Bute. Once there I knew I’d blend in with the crowd and become unnoticed amongst the throngs of its daily offerings.
© Michael J. Varma, The Gong Show, 2011 –
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