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You are sitting there, dumbfounded, as life as you know it is being re-interpreted, fabricated out of whole cloth, predigested, and thrown at you as if you are this dead, empty thing.  Life (LIFE!) is being reduced to an insensible book report!  Freeze-dried sound-bite-granules of nothingness are given to you to ingest and place your faith in.  Timidly, a few times, I did raise the question of how did all this help one to be happy and keep one’s happiness?  You can guess with what results.  Happiness and the inner self, it seems, are insignificant to the human mind.

Second-hand information, many times removed from anything, came at me with such conviction and earnestness (you have to give them that) that it was hard to look away.  It was people’s sincerity I was responding to, knowing that the inner self is the reality.  But all the flat, linear fiction of the how, what, when, where, and why of what they called  “Real Life” insisted on wrapping itself around me, into me, while I sat there wondering whatever happened to now, here, this perfect instant, this precious infinite within?  Whatever happened to me?  I felt so lost.  I was a bouncing ball played with by other people.  I was being asked to remove myself from myself.  I knew we come into this Human world whole, with access to Infinite knowledge and abilities.  The closing off of this Totality and our oneness with it requires we give up ourselves.  As we can see all around us, we pay a terrible price.