Essay, Reflections

Lie to me…?

Everybody lies…

Including me.

That being said, I have to wonder why it bothers me so much? Is it the kind of lie that gets to me, or the reason for lying? Or is it merely my pride balking at the idea that you think you’re “getting away” with something because I’m too naive or gullible to question it? I don’t know. Honestly…

I mean, there are simple “white lies,” usually meant to protect someone’s feelings. Unimportant in the larger scheme of things, or so we tell ourselves. And yet somehow they are “important” enough to justify themselves. Because not telling them would cause harm to someone. Or so we believe… (And that is quite likely the truth!)

There are “lies of omission,” when we could tell the truth, but we don’t. We imply things, tell half-truths, but shy away from telling the whole truth. And usually we do that to protect ourselves. Because we don’t want to be judged. Or because we fear the consequences of being judged.

Yeah, I could tell my boss I was late today because I was shopping online, but why bother? I told him I was going to be late, he didn’t ask why, so I gave no excuse at all. Would there have been work consequences if I told the whole truth? Probably not. But he would have thought less of me, perhaps felt disrespected because I thought shopping was more important than doing the job he hired me for. But it’s unlikely I would have faced any “real” consequences. So I left a blank slate between us; no harm done, to the relationship or my sense of integrity…

Lies of omission are good for avoiding embarrassment as well. Could my friend have told me she was headed out for a possible late night booty call with a stranger? Of course! Not my place to judge her, and there’s nothing “wrong” with her wanting such, but still… Is that something she wants to openly admit? Apparently not. Better to say she’s “going out to coffee with a friend.” That way, regardless of how it turns out, there are no awkward follow-up questions, no voicing of concerns or friendly warnings, no attempts at explaining desires, and no fear of “I told you so” if it goes poorly.

And then there are the unintended lies, those told for expediency’s sake, but never meant to be untruthful. Like my boss promising me a different job within the company. He always meant to fulfill that promise. But it’s been more than five years now, a hundred “excuses” later, and I’m no closer to that job than I was when it was first promised to me. I’ve lost my old job, and now they’re making up busy work for me to do, just to keep me around. Still not the job I’ve been waiting for.

Are lies the necessary consequence of living in community? Or is the truth enough to really set us free? I’ve not seen a lot of truth living in communal circumstances, but I have seen a lot of hurt arise from it. Even if that truth is only what I admit to myself…

People call me gullible because I so easily accept people as they present themselves. That doesn’t mean I cannot see what lies beneath the lies they tell themselves. The truth is, I accept the version of reality that someone else chooses to show or tell me because it’s not my place, usually, to correct them. We all live in a fantasy of our own creation. Who am I to spoil your delusion?


I have my own delusions, too. Including the one that tells me you’re lying to my face, intentionally or otherwise. Even if you aren’t. According to you…

So go ahead and lie to me. It’s what we do. It’s what we want. Even if it’s only because I want someone to blame when the truth seeps through, and reality becomes a glaring, blinding, painful thing to witness. Comfort me with an alternative fact, however absurd, so I can tell my Self that I’m ok.

It’s ok… Really.

Everybody lies, after All…


A Conversation With THE Other About… Failure

Her eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise. “Failure?!… Hmm, not what I expected to hear at all! Whose failure?,” she thought to ask. “Who failed at doing what?”

I laughed out loud, grateful to be alone in my room for this conversation. “Why my failure, of course!,” I told her. “My failure at living my life, practicing what I’ve been taught… My decision to just give up!”

Lea sat forward on her couch, focus intensifying without any other obvious sign. “Explain,” she demanded.

I hesitated, gathering my thoughts close to me, trying to impose some sense of order on the chaos within my mind. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, I attempted to comply…

“All my life I’ve been taught to walk between worlds, to choose my own reality. Through focus, perception, imagination and will, I can be anywhere. Any time…. Anyone…

“I know this!,” I added, frustration creeping in. “Yet, in spite of what I know, I remain here! In this dying world, this pointless race. I cannot escape, no matter how I try! I cannot change anything of consequence for myself!…”

Sitting back, a wry grin upon her face, Lea nodded. “So, we’re back to this again, are we?”

“No!!,” I snapped, involuntarily. “Do not mock me, or belittle what I say! Because this is a whole new level of enough!”

Lifting one eyebrow in silence, she encouraged me to continue…

“Even my dreams are mocking me lately. Tests and challenges, administered and passed. Pathways revealed between dimensions that are subsequently travelled. Progress made, with or without significant struggle. And then I wake. Quite suddenly. To find myself here again! Nothing has changed!! And if it has, it’s only gotten worse!…

“Then the messages start to arrive in my waking world, repetitive and encouraging. Telling me that all is well, that all that I’ve been working toward, and for, is just about to break in my favor. Finally!…

“Only, it doesn’t happen. At least not noticeably. At least not for me…”

“So… Either everything I’ve been taught, everything I believe, is a lie,” I conclude. “Or I am just incompetent in the extreme.”

Nodding, Lea responds quite seriously. “So, you’ve chosen to believe the first – that it’s all a lie. I guess that makes sense. Certainly is easier to accept, isn’t it?”

“Still, I’m curious,” she continued. “Why, exactly, would that be? Why is it easier to accept that your lifelong curriculum has been faulty rather than you have failed to apply it properly?”

“Less disappointing,” I answered quickly. “To think I’ve been misled puts less pressure on me.”

“But it also prevents any remedy,” she pointed out, quite ruthlessly. “If it were you at fault, you might still learn differently. But if your basic premises are false, there is no chance to succeed.”

“True,” I admit quietly. “But that’s the point, isn’t it?… I’m tired of trying and failing consistently. I just want to be done with all of it!”

“Cop out, Lisa,” she snapped. “And not worthy of you! Just when I was starting to respect who you were becoming…” Contempt dripped from every word.

“It won’t work this time, Lea,” I pointed out quite placidly. “I don’t really care anymore what you might think of me…”

“Fine!,” she noted unemotionally. “Then tell me, just for argument’s sake, why you think you failed so miserably?”

“Easy,” I answered. “It’s my body.”

She laughed outright, taken by surprise. “Oh please do explain this theory to me…”

“It’s not theory, Lea; it’s fact.” I remained calm and focused as I explained. “All the traveling I have done, per your and others’ teachings, has involved projecting my mind, my spirit, my perspective into another space or time. Not exactly hard to do. And while my experiences in those other places have contributed to creating who I am, influencing my thoughts, moods, interactions and expectations, they are always limited by my body…

“Because any disturbance to my body will snap me back into my own time and space, whether I wish to return or not. It’s like an anchor, dragging me down, time and time again. There is no escaping it! Ever! Until, or unless, I can find a way to cross those dimensional barriers with my body as well as my mind, I will never be free.”

“And frankly,” I smirked, “I have no reason to want to take it with me. This body is broken. It may be my fault, having treated it thoughtlessly and recklessly, but it does not serve me well now. So, even if I could figure out how to travel with it, I wouldn’t bother to try. What would be the point? I can’t trust it to perform the most basic of actions anymore, nor can I escape the constant pain of being in it…

“Therefore,” I concluded smugly, “my work here is done. I’m playing the waiting game until I can be gone…”

Lea sat back to contemplate what I’d said, while I left to get something to eat… When I returned, she jumped in, as though the conversation had never stalled…

“But you’re forgetting something important,” she stated with her characteristic certainty. “Reality, after all, is just an illusion.”

“Not true,” I answered immediately, “as my body proves. Because no matter what reality I’m in, it can drag me back here again. Therefore, my body exists in some real time or space, giving its needs total primacy.”

Lea shook her head, denying me. But she did not speak.

“Prove to me otherwise, Lea,” I implored her. “Show up in my life for real. Bring your body if you can. Walk up and talk to me, face to face…

“Until you can do that, or unless I should say, we have nothing more to discuss. For you and I will both remain trapped exactly where and when we are. And all this talk about traveling between worlds will take on the aura of pure fantasy, as it properly should. Because so long as our bodies anchor us, neither one will ever be truly free…

“That’s the facts, Lea,” I concluded, sadly. “Accept, as I have, and move on, or prove me wrong definitively. If you do that, I will gladly adopt the mantle of student once more. If you can’t, I prefer to surrender gracefully…”


Happy New Year…? Really?!

Am I the only one who feels reluctance to voice those words this year? Am I the only one who believes that uttering such sentiments is tantamount to inviting people to indulge in fantasy while abandoning reality?

I mean, it’s not that I don’t want good things to happen to people, because I certainly do. It’s more that I sense that such “good things” as health, prosperity and peace are unattainable at this time. And while it’s true that I said the obligatory greetings at midnight between December 31st and January 1st, even I could not miss the sarcasm or irony in my tone as I did so.

I have avoided posting (or responding to) Facebook greetings about the new year for the most part. And when I felt it was necessary, I have acknowledged them with “likes” rather than reciprocity; anything more would feel too insincere. It just doesn’t seem like a happy new year…

I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my innate honesty coming out. I’m not depressed, nor do I wish to trigger others’ anxieties, but all of my instincts rail against the false hope implied in that traditional greeting.

***. ***. ***

I avoid the news. I’ve cut myself off from anyone’s supposedly factual presentation of “what’s happening now.” I did so because… well, I guess if I have to explain why, then you likely would disagree with my reasoning, so never mind. The point is, when I feel compelled to investigate “what’s happening out there (as opposed to in here),” I tend to read opinion pieces instead. At least they’re honest about being opinions (mostly), and if I read enough opposing opinions, I can sometimes get a sense of what “facts” might have triggered them, somewhere in between their interpretations of events.

So today I got up early enough to read several such opposing opinions, and thought now might be a good time to catch up on the world my body is inhabiting.

I think that might have been a mistake…

Because I’m truly not sure what reality I tagged into. And I’m not convinced anyone else I read knows either, though they don’t seem at all concerned with their skewed points of view. I just couldn’t make sense of anything I read!

There were the Earth-friendly writers (usually liberal leaning, if not outright left wing extremists) touting Trump as the destroyer of the Cabal…?! Umm… is this the same Trump who’s been on a direct “destroy the environment to eke out a few more pennies of profit” kick for decades?

Or the self-declared leftist revolutionaries questioning why openly right wing conservatives are mysteriously dying, supporting the alt-right’s declaration of conspiracies against them…?! Umm… really?!

There are the Evangelicals finally admitting that their Bible prophesies a non-believer who would become king, restoring their patriarchal, authoritarian rule of law…?! “Of course Trump is a non-believer, but we wouldn’t want him any other way! Only a non-believer could support our [ridiculous, restrictive, murderous] agenda!”

There are high-ranking (former) military and government officials openly, and publicly, calling on our military to stage a coup, while our rank and file members turn out in droves (against military rules) in Trump supporting paraphernalia, appearing to be his greatest fans…! All while not getting paid?! Really?!

And then there’s the truly delusional ones. You know the hype. “We’ve finally turned the corner! So many people have evolved enough that true peace is right around the corner!” Really? Where?

Meanwhile, in my city, there were three murders already, before New Year’s Day was officially over – a shooting, a stabbing, and a home invasion resulting in a fatality (home dweller, not thief, of course). And these are all “poor on poor” crimes, regardless of color, religion, immigration status, or sexual orientation…

I don’t know… Maybe I am depressed after all. But “happy new year”?


Conversations, Reflections, Visions


I was out of form and exploring the lack of boundaries I felt, enchanted by the possibilities taking shape. I had reached out to an’Other I know very well, seeking connection in this formless state. But she hadn’t answered my call or responded in any way, and I knew time had passed in my world. So I reached out once again, more determined now to discover why she was avoiding me…

I felt my hand solidify, just a bit, as it touched something real somewhere, so I fed a bit more attention to it, and grasped at the object I’d found. Pulling it toward me with a jerk and a wish, I prepared to ask questions of my missing friend…

But the hand that emerged was not hers at all. It was large, and tattooed, and tinted slightly blue. I glanced up, quite startled, as the body came through – a tattooed man I’d never met, who stood there grinning like a fool. Acting like he’d achieved something wondrous that day, leaving me disoriented, and shy, with this stranger I’d nabbed…

“Uhh… you’re not Lea,” I pointed out, to cover my shame.

“Ummm… no,” he responded, though his grin never faded.

“Do I know you?,” I asked, unsure of myself. “Or should I?”

“‘Should’ is a word I don’t like to use; it’s weighted heavily with expectations, and leads too often to excuses.”

“Which doesn’t answer my question at all,” I pointed out. “So, tell me, my friend, who are you? And why are you here?”

“You brought me here. Quite insistently, I might add,” he answered with a wink, lifting our still joined hands into my field of vision.

It was then that I realized I was nothing more than mist, with a hand solidly attached to his. And as we moved silently across a sandy land, I thought to look back to see where we’d been. His footsteps were clear in the sandy soil, but my path was marked by a series of puddles. Remembering suddenly I was water without form, I focused more strongly on the hand that I held.

As I did so, a body began to take shape around me – lithe and tall and blue as a lake…

“You’re not even human!,” I suddenly exclaimed, aware in that moment of the size of the moon. For night was falling in that unfamiliar place, and the moon was rising to take her natural space. But she was huge, and purplish blue, and the stars that surrounded and worshipped her were all new…

“Neither are you,” he whispered close to my ear, and suddenly I knew it was true…

“I am now,” I said sadly. “Or mostly, anyway. And I have been for a very long time…”


“Welcome home, Lost One,” he continued softly. “You have been missed.”

Glancing around at the barren landscape, I felt bewildered. “But what happened here?,” I asked. “I don’t remember any of this…”

And suddenly a great noise arose, directly in front of us, as a crowd of like others came running to join us…

“You found her!,” exclaimed an old woman, leaning heavily upon a small child, while others babbled in laughter and other joyous sounds…

“More like she found me,” he reacted honestly, as our contact was broken by the crowd embracing me…

I was loved here. Completely. And joyously. And freely. And tears of happiness flowed easily from me. My heart felt full for the first time in forever, and I let it burst free to enjoy this phenomenon.

And as tears fell from eyes that were never quite dry, I noticed the very landscape around me had shifted. For now things were growing in the desert of before, becoming lush forest in the non-time we wore. And when I looked back at our footprints once more, I saw flowers springing from puddles where I had stepped before…

Glancing back at the tattooed man, I noticed his smile again. Only this time I felt it within me as well… He took my hands in his, looked deep into me, and spoke gently to the deepest sense of my being…

“As I said, you’ve been missed… Welcome home, Le-hAn-Dre-Elise…”

Dreams, Reflections

The Labyrinth

Trapped in the labyrinth in last night’s dreams

being tested, repeatedly.

All different scenarios, but with the same goals:

to get me to own my own shit.

I tried to engage the people I met

to recruit them toward helping me.

But every one turned their backs on me…

After all… it wasn’t their shit!

The “answer” was always the same –

some version of “letting go”

or “moving on”

and leaving them on their own…

Until every twist and turn within

became almost predictable.

With me saying, “yep, yep, yep…”

And starting to speed up my steps.

One of the advantages, I suppose

of so many years getting to know

My self…

And then I woke, relieved at first

that the tests were temporarily shelved.

Only to roll out of bed to intense physical pain,

brought on by the questionable weather?

“What the hell is this about?!,”

I thought to ask myself.

“So much progress made today,

and this is the thanks I get?!”


So much I’ve learned in lifetimes here, but one truth remains elusive: how to find real relief living in a 3D shell residing in a 3D hell…

I mean, truthfully, every day here is like every other, as predictable as the dream itself. I wake, quite often feeling physical pain, just to prove it’s not a dream. Drink coffee. Clean myself (maybe) or have breakfast (maybe), but those are the only variables with which to play. Dress myself and head to work, to “earn” my way in this world…

Then it’s off to visit friends sometimes, or maybe a trip to the store, to buy those necessities a 3D body requires (like coffee, and food, and clothes). Then home (at last!) to see my cat, who’s waiting eagerly for his treats. More coffee, and a chance to sit (finally!), to catch up on some emails, read some blogs, or maybe watch tv…

Until I’m sleeping where I sit, struggling to stay awake. Why? I have no real idea. Maybe because to sleep resets the day, so I can go through it all again…

And once a week work offers me a check, a “thank you for showing up” gesture that I appreciate. So one night a week includes a trip to the bank, to put my UOMe into a talking machine. But there is nothing owed to me, when all the math is done, as I am just a temporary holding station. For two days later, I guarantee, I’ll be on the internet, paying bills, all honestly owed. And my IOThem’s are always more than UOMe’s, you know.

So it’s back up for another day, another round of all this stuff. And I can find no real escape! Trapped here in this vicious cycle, monotony day by day. Predictable as the labyrinth within my dream, but without a clear path to follow. Not even the offer of a dead end path, down which I might willingly wander. If only for the change of pace…

My mind is free to wander, of course, and it very often does. But the body remains trapped here, unable to “move on.” And while I realize that I have much here to be grateful for, and perhaps more than I deserve, the truth that haunts the background here is, “who wants to live in a cage?”


“Why is this?! It makes no rational sense!,” I scream in my frustration.

“There is no logical, reasonable, spiritual explanation that even remotely justifies it!”

For if reality is my own creation (and I believe it is),

and if I am capable of manifesting miracles here (which I believe I’ve done),

then there is no way I should be physically trapped here in this place!

The body is just a vessel, nothing more, nothing less. Is there any wonder why I’m often self-destructive? I know I’ve earned every pain, every ache, with the bad decisions I’ve made. But seriously, self, this is the worst “joke” I’ve ever played upon myself!

And no, I’m not looking for outside help or explanations here; I “get” what the labyrinth expects: my shit, my problem, my dilemma to work out. I’m only writing here to record the steps I’ve taken, leaving breadcrumbs to mark my way. Taking note of all the other scratches, marks, and indicators of the many times I’ve passed this way. This one part of the puzzle has me stymied, to be sure, but I’m certain (absolutely certain!) that there must be a way!

Every other test I’ve faced has involved letting go, or moving on, so how do they apply? Other than the obvious which would be to simply die? But even that solution is not available to me, at least not at this time. But with time now proven to be irrelevant…

“Damn! And I’m right back where I started!” Once again…

And the labyrinth chalks up yet another win…