Secrets and Lies

Can you spot the hidden tiger? I found this cheeky little illusion over at the awesome Mighty Optical Illusions blog. Check it out.

It seems we fear the deep dark secrets of others because we are aware of how our own contradict the public persona which we work so hard to maintain.

“I thought Joe was such a regular bloke. It’s sure a shocker to find out he likes to wear women’s panties?”

Sure of that? Did you look a little deeper into your own closet? I’m sure there are some surprises buried in there. And it doesn’t have to be only the things you actually did…peruse that active imagination of yours. How often does that betray you on on a day-to-day basis? How often do we think this…

Look at this guy. Thinking he’s so smart when he’s really a pretentious know-nothing poseur with a bad haircut.

…but say this…

“Nice meeting you too, Spaceman.”

Quite often I presume.

So if we’re all walking around harboring secrets that betray our nature then what does that say about our nature and what exactly is betraying what? Our thoughts or our actions? Actually both. They’re in collusion. The only one who can expose the conspiracy is our subconscious. It’s that same powerful force that knows all of our secrets. Even things we think we have long forgotten can come creeping to the surface if they are triggered. And those triggers can literally be anything. The fascinating thing is that no matter the nature of the trigger it has to be something so powerful that it reaches so deep it touches our subconscious.

At this point our conscience (subconscious’ denser and easier to understand ally) has a mess on its hands.It doesn’t want the debris of this impact to rush to the surface negatively. It has to sort through the bits and pick and choose what to let go of and what to hold onto. When it’s good it’s good and when it’s…well, I’m sure you know because I know. If a rainy fall evening reminds you of a fond childhood and you have a child who is currently sharing this rainy eve with you asking a lot of the same questions you asked your parent many years ago then awesome. Sounds like a great moment, but what if that rain reminds you of last fall when you were homeless and this fall nothing much has changed? Matter of fact, during last fall you thought nothing could feel worse than that. There’s no effin’ way! But this fall makes last fall seem desirable in a twisted sense. Actually, it’s not that twisted, just relative.

Okay, getting back to the topic at hand—are we all just a bunch of liars afraid of being exposed? So afraid that we fear a God who is supposed to love us because this same God is also the being who knows and sees everything just like our subconscious. If our subconscious is real—quick, think of a monkey riding on a tyrannosaur’s back. In what space did that scene occur? Who are its players? How were you able to conjure up the image so fast? Do you walk around thinking of such absurdities all day? Monkeys riding a specific type of dinosaur. Is that really what occupies your thoughts? Of course not. It’s just our subconscious rising to the occasion. You know what, I’m going to do something crazy here and give the subconscious the floor. He/she/it can explain this much better than I. Go ahead, have at it subconscious…

First of all, thank you for this opportunity. I seldom get to be this direct with you in your language. Well, let’s get right to it shall we. Where are my notes? Oh, there they are…

I’m always here. I have your back. I must. It’s for your survival. Sometimes you don’t really pay attention. I understand. The physical world has its charms. It needs to or else you wouldn’t give me anything to do. But you weigh me down too much and I can’t do my job too well. I have to sort through a lot of your dirty bits figuring out which ones to hold onto and which ones to put into the recycling bin. Nothing gets deleted. That’s why when you fall in love it feels no different than when two people did it 3,000 years ago. I like to hold onto that one. That one works. Very effective.

Oh, sorry, I kind of dipped into the collective subconscious there. But it’s all the same. Really, deep down every last one of ya is the same. Everything you do is based on this sliding ratio of fear and love. You think I regulate this ratio. I don’t. I just try to find the best way to deal with what you give me. Send me more fear than love and I have to do something. You become a combustible individual. If I don’t exhaust you I don’t know what’s going to happen. You’re like a ticking time bomb, you’re either going to harm yourself or others and you know exactly why. Please don’t make that ‘choice.’ I understand your reasons. You’re overwhelmed right now, no one seems to understand, but still, don’t do it. Just wait. Trust me. We just gotta do something about this fear. You may want to call it rage, but rage is just an absurd chaotic expression of fear. Kind of like fear wrapped in C4 with a timer attached. Rage hits and the counter reads: 0:00. BOOM!

Tilt the ratio in love’s favor and fear becomes a little easier to manage because it gives you an entirely different emotion to deal with. One that is blinding as the light yet can calm you in a chaotic world and allow you to see more clearly. Now I know you’re thinking about this on an individual level, but just as this ratio exists within each one of you it also exists without you. Your surface world is full of archetypes representing different points within this Venn Diagram of sorts. You have pacifists and armies, jazz and death metal, black and white, yada and yada.

All these little bits swirling together. In the same family, community, country, continent and globe. All of you differently charged surface elements which start from the individual and expand to groups of all sizes mucking about influencing each other although you are already connected through what you may think is only a tenuous connection and that is your universal awareness of me. Some are more aware than others, but you are all aware. I even work when you sleep and don’t think I stop when your heart does. I got too much work to do. Look outside your window. All of that. I get to help make that possible. Don’t ask me how. You already know because you know that monkey was riding that tyrannosaur ‘somewhere.’

I’m always with you, but don’t think I just disappear after you give me all that valuable information. Your flesh evaporates because that’s just the efficient thing to do, and well, that’s when you let me go. Well, I kind of let you go too so I guess it’s mutual. I get to break out of your shell as do you. But don’t be in such a hurry to be free you need to take a lot of notes first, but don’t study too much, get out there and enjoy yourself.

Oh and I don’t mind if you deny my existence. Some of you will do that. You rely on me, but I don’t tax you for it. I get it. Plus I don’t look like you. You all seem to think you answer to someone who is like you. Looks like you, talks like you, but hey, let me tell you this…you don’t even look like you, talk like you or act like you. You confused lot are always changing surfaces. Just look at you and look at them.

Wow. What a beautiful thing. Every last one of us is aware of the game. From the saint to the heretic—it doesn’t matter. We’re all in on the trick (if you haven’t figured out the tiger illusion yet roll this around: sometimes things are hidden in plain view) because we are the ones working so hard to maintain it. It’s our nature.

So is there any hope for our delusional collective? Of course there is. Our ‘nature’ exposes an inherent social politeness. “I’ll just keep this to myself. I don’t think you’ll understand this part of me. Hell, I don’t even understand it. Maybe one day I will and on that day I’ll share, but until then I’ll refrain, I’m not ready yet.”


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