recog's journey

It is a funny thing, but my life is one of isolation in many ways. Religious folks are not suppose to wonder and wander. I am that but I was a recog before. To train one's eyes like a laser on one so called reality is cautioned. Look intently but not closely. We are taught that the things we worship are irrefutable but we have to believe it all by faith. The truth is that most religions are myths as far as fact goes, the principles are fact hid behind symbols and the mistake we make is that we personify the symbols. Once we personify, we are subject to mental manipulation by ones who know better and ones who only know to personify. They will damn you if you don't believe as they do. It is a weave of culture and doctrine and time. No one seeks the origin of it, it is all unique, original and timeless. I have been a fool as many others. The original teaching once pulled from the center begins to diverge into cultural streams fading into the quirks of other cultures, languages, motives and mentalities.

 

I am strapped in my seat, the images whirl by seamlessly, endlessly and I can't tell if the schemes are lies or truth disguised as mis-understandings. The point of view of the victim, the view of the victor, the view of the passerby. When they converge only principle remains. The pain of one, gloating of the second and the report of the last is all taken with a grain of salt. Too much salt is bad in any case. With age one gets seasoned, you must speak, be frank if the disillusions have faded. They thought they knew you but your mind has changed. They are shocked, never knew you felt that way. They never thought to ask, always assumed you were like them, accepting it all as if that is the way it should be. You get older, your origins begin to speak. You haven't conversed with them since before you got engaged, engulfed and submerged in the openly acceptable but sorely misguided.

 

Damn, I am a recog, I should have recognized that! I have to open the ancient books, look at ancient pictures, refresh my memory of stuff I haven't seen in my present lifetime. Today I look to Africa and Kemet, etc. I look at fresh faces for clues of the old and worn. The sands don't hid everything.

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