Teaching: Gauge your need for escape and make a lucid decision about the balance between your physical world and spiritual world. You have to live! Your spiritual work is meant to enhance your physical life not replace it! In the popular words: “Before enlightenment, chop wood . . . after enlightenment, chop wood!”
‘I did it again! It is like an addiction to a never-ending drug of consciousness! Each and every time I inject that spiritual vaccine into the limb of my metaphysical body, the world seems to disappear and a lull enters my senses. Gone are all the physical deadlines and ‘must-do’s’, all the should’s and shouldn’ts and in flows the bliss.
If only I could live this way for all the days of my life and never be concerned with my own welfare nor my dignity. If only I could live on the blissful agreements of a well-timed universe and the zero expectant demands of my higher self. If only I did not have to think about how I could be of service or how I have to earn my bread and butter, and instead drink of the elixir of Buddahood.
When I read tales of the Masters and their disciplines in the caves of immortality, I am persuaded to answer to the call of my spirit. I need none of the contents of the spirit contained within a bottle . . . mine is pure and totally justified. The spirit I drink, allows me to brush aside my family in favour of its intoxicating promise of freedom and it allows me to ponder upon ideals which brings me nothing but freedom from the current illusion.
When I am basking in this spirit, I forego my duties to my spouse, as I am after all, the more enlightened one and my needs must be met, as I am a blessing to this very planet! I need not have a teacher and there is nothing more that I need learn. I have it all worked out and I know the truth . . .
When I imbibe and drink of this spirit, I may release my mind and my commonsense and in its place, live in the stupor of blind faith and a hope which fends off despair. I am after all, in this place as a sufferance and my being birthed here, was a mistake from the beginning. I love to surround myself with all things holy and in the midst of heavenly things, I forget that I have to live, eat, earn and walk amongst people.
And if I return to my lucid self, I am afraid that I will be forced to pay attention and that I will never reach the planes of bliss that I have convinced myself exist. And so, like the addict, I seek the hits of divine entertainment and spiritual abdication and I am content with weaving in and out of life, where I would be forced to own that I am here . . . on earth . . . with a purpose, a theme and a reason.’