The usual trifle of a mastermind is their undoing but there is a mastermind of daunting courage, accidental lack of ego and yet an individualism that “seeks not its own.” yet “lacks nothing” and is “perfectly equipped for every good work.”
‘The usual trifle of the Mastermind is the ‘truffle’ of the Mastermind. Wishing to escape the watching eyes of commoners presumed swine that are in their common simplicity the sign and signat of that primeval connective singularity of all beings the mastermind alone presumes to be the all seeing eye..and yet..”the spiritual man judgeth all things and yet is judged by no one.”
This is Yin and Yang, Light and Dark, Batman and Robin.
Shadows have the tendency to reveal the truth.
Just as Sherlock Holmes might make a game of wits with a man of wits similar and the chess game that interweaves as we see consciousness show mysteries, that is the mystery of evil and the mystery of good.
How does one of similar temperament and comportment as another choose evil or good?
How many of us truly ever meet our archnemesis?
The arechtypical mastermind is not entirely evil and vile.
The Benevolent Ego of the good Mastermind absorbs into the all.
Whilst being an individual self he is at the service of all.
While being egoless he has become all.
While the evil mastermind secures his fortress the good mastermind makes a glass house.
Through accountability is wrot tranquility for accountability is “to be known” by another name.
The evil mastermind secures his own house. When the good leader rules he secures homes for all.
Two houses all and all and great the potential dirges for if either were to fall and yet one shares generosity with urgency the other clenches stones and gold alike.
Like a dark prince of shimmering, ethereal and uncreated light so is the rarity of this egoless gift to humanity.
He/she calls back the valor of the medieval knights of lore. He is victorious and powerful and has found the white stone with his name on it. His name will never be blotted out.
May we all strive for such egoless truth of existence.
There’s an old saying called “Be careful what you wish for… you just might get it.” and I must say it’s true, specifically in successful neurodivergent masking escapades.
I remember growing up feeling like the one disconnected, never sure how the constant interchange of drama and ideas unfolded so naturally.. and yet they did; constantly with neurotypical people!
People didn’t censor themselves nor screen themselves and at times may have even been vulgar and all was fine but if I screened myself into a frenzy I still came up short almost as if I had shown up to English class with math notes.
I longed for the acceptance of the in crowd and yet I saw the vanity and lack of depth present in many common interchanges..as well as the points of hidden depth in everyday people’s intercommunication, usually unseen by the in crowd themselves.
In a way this always made me a peace maker of sorts because I came to the protection of what people took for granted and I saw hidden beauty where others saw nothing.
Details oriented, often missing the forest for the forgotten tree shrub and yet I was well aware that that tree shrub is what forests were made of.
I knew it.. because I was that tree shrub..forgotten in the forest.
I remember sometime into my early twenties through various meditative techniques, cognitive behavioral changes and techniques as well as having been brought into a more healthy close friend community that I was somewhat learning how to operate in community even if it was community as married to my ‘monastic’ musings of the same. (Monasticism was the ideological template that helped open me up to a larger community of people. For better clarity my friends ran a community coffee shop and I lived with them for a while. I experienced genuinely what I would call ‘divine love’ in that family and the community that surrounded them )
Always seeing in the thing the thing the others didn’t see. Seeing the Transcendent value in the common place. Seeing the monastery in the community coffee shop or in the “home for wayward boys.”
I knew it.. because I was that tree shrub..forgotten in the forest.
I really was a lost boy and I revisit that often.
Ironically I could even say that the Messiah figure in my life has often returned me to Peter Pan like musings.
Surely it makes sense because the mature man will need to be willing to sacrifice egoistic preference for the greatest good and yet Pan becomes a crony corporate business man when he forgets his soul. The childlike imaginative in us all that becomes the healer of the aching body of the mind that forgot, it’s soaring soul!
Like the old gospel song said “I’ll fly away oh glory I’ll fly away!” sometimes returning to the simple childlikeness that eschews egotism without making a spiritual or virtuous activity out of it is that noble task rarely taken. The Pan man never lost his ability to fly because he maintained those ‘happy thoughts’.
How this relates to my life is sometimes I have felt genuine and I have felt the pressure to “get to work” as it were and to attempt to forget my happy thoughts, that place of no neurodiveregent masking in preference for neurotypical poker face.
Noone can easily describe or know how hard this experience can be. Much like having the FCC in your head at all time censoring everything your’e ready to say or do and having to change course and rechannel your energy typicalizing the neuro non typical many times feels like an oppressive act of internal self violence and yet this world is very violent.
I like to see how some of the biblical prophets only found divinity when they went “outside of the camp/ city gates” and this is how I have felt this past year and a quarter+ whilst I’ve shunned societal going ons, retreated ever inward and thought about how I might change society in the only way possible by helping it embrace its highest self by practicing what I wish to preach. The truth of the matter is that noone who changes and “becomes new” has become something novel but rather something ancient. “The good man brings forth treasures old and new.” and I guess I’m an old soul.
It is easier than people think for you to have an opinion when people are listening; contrary to the modern proverb “You can’t even have an opinion anymore.”
I know this because I wanted to be heard for years.
I had been glossed over. I had been forgotten. I had been passed over.
For about 5 or so recent years though I was performing live very regular as performing artist/ musician and in what could be considered a pendulum between a new entertainment extroversion to never before experienced levels and on the flip side semi extreme hermitism.
Then in comes the pandemic and I assume the role of a stay at home dad, the multimillion dollar company that used to pump posts about the show I leaded was no longer boosting my content with consistent and gratuitous amounts of ad revenue and that even in cahoots with some of my personal accounts.
The connection of my activity to Facebook translated mysteriously into my person seemingly having value to said algorithm (even if I wasn’t by any means even close to making the type of money the company I worked for was). To all possible intellectualization I could make out however, that the algorithm believed I was famous whether I was much at all. I was noticed somewhat. I was heard. I wasn’t so passed over.
Let me give you one lesson though. Facebook is not censoring you because they do not like you. Facebook just isn’t ‘boosting you’ because you aren’t making them money. At that time I was but now the algorithm believes I am noone, caput, basically a nobody.
This is the sad value testimony of human value in our crapitalist society. Nothing is usually popular in the way it was in ancient Athens.. back when intellectual values, philosophy of ideas and metaphysics were valuable of their own accord and merely for the fact of having mused upon them and nursed them into schools of thought. Now even that value is worthless unless it’s ready to pay the piper. I wonder how much money Facebook wastes not investing in these ideas. But I guess every time a toilet flushes at Walmart a tax deduction angel gets its wings!
So I’m settling in to a more long lasting version of my hermitage but I would be lying if I said that my depression has been totally at bay.
And yet still I’m doing something that some in the medicine/ science only crowd might think muddies the waters into dangerous hippy sentimentalist territory. I’m taking alot of walks in nature, exercising, taking my cbd, eating better, avoiding excessive alcohol or cussing at puppies and of course writing my blog as one part of my weekly healing process.
And you know what .. it helps; because sometimes even after a good helping of protein rich organic peanut butter pancakes.. on a rainy day, when your mind is racing and the sleep disorder demons have clocked out, they need someone to pick up a shift and of course the depression demons are ready and rearing to go. Even so when I write it out it has been transmitted from the realm of thoughts to the realm of words and in my subjective pseudoscientific opinion it seems to help.
I always knew I was an ‘ideas person’. I was always desperate to be stuck in a college academia library studying theology, philosophy, science, physics, social theory (EVERYTHING)!
I have always been mad that whatever secret branch of the government that hires for think tanks hasn’t broke their silence and reached out to me yet. But patience is a virtue after all! Le-sigh.
Re-sign. That’s my miraculous auto predict shake out of writers block! And that’s precisely what I’m getting to now.
The first step to embracing and truly enjoying solitude is getting past the loneliness and just because I’m married doesn’t mean I don’t get lonely when it’s just me and my daughter during the day. Yes.. even with my daughter there I get lonely sometimes and that’s ok even if her just being there really really helps!
You see loneliness is no respecter of persons. And yet perhaps its more helpful and comfortable to be all St. Francis like and call her Sister Loneliness.
Loneliness is like engaging a Jericho wall and sometimes you just got to blast a trumpet in your heart and shake yourself up a little to get past the false barriers it suggests and remember somehow, right now, life is still being lived.
You also must be humble if your’e more the type to be desirous of the hermit lifestyle because whether Pentupium Introvert 5.0 or not you just have to face the music that people aren’t always terrible and in many ways many of them are much better than you… and that’s ok! After all you have your own strengths and weaknesses too!
Most saints probably don’t mantra on that word too much or at the least they think it means something different than most people think it means.
So also a healthy hermit has to be humble and it is as intriguingly intricate as this idiomatic tongue twister.
The healthy hermit is the balance of ones needs and “the Others” needs.. whichever other or Other that may be.
Healthy solitude is a gift for a heart that is healing. It is the opposite of the crusted bitterness of undealt with trauma. The deep irony for he, she or they that seek solitude is this.. one can only seek solitude well as they find a supporting cast.
Imagine that you were just getting things settled. You had your challenges and you had your pages well written. You weren’t perfect but life was by no means even close to bad. Things were going pretty well.
Yet somewhere lingering in the back of your mind was your desire to make a career change, to stand up for yourself.
You wondered when might life give you “a break”.
You do things a certain way all the time and the rythm of what you do is rythmic like praying on prayer beads or speaking in tongues. Even the things you loathe that pay the bills are the things that ironically give you time to connect to and to protect that same heart.
Then right when you are gearing towards having your first child with your wife you waited 31 years of your life to find and are beginning to find stablilizing routines, a Global Pandemic strikes.
You aren’t ‘entirely unhealthy’ but youv’e almost died of 2 viruses at once, had spinal meningitis, presently have various stomach and digestive maladies, and have had sinusitus since youth.
Youv’e underwent years of anxiety, depression and OCD. You had the secret wonder that maybe you were on the autistic spectrum for many years.
You recently found out why you were so cripplingly tired all the time and that you have narcolepsy and sleep apnea..with it’s happy symptom of insomnia.. Cherry on top ‘amirite’?
Youv’e been prepared for this test for it was the very first one.
Time to be a man. Time to survive whatever comes. You don’t complain for food shortages at the bum rushed super market…your fight or flight is too strong for that. Neither do you have a reductionistic view of surviving crises periods of history that only thinks about the obvious, trying to save money, trying to make more money.
You realise if push came to shove you can’t eat money.
You buy seeds along with your normal grocery. You save every seed from the refuse. You begin to compost and trial and error on learning to grow from seed.
You don’t think about comfort first. You are essentially reverted to your caveman effigy and your title is if you win war with the Mastodon.
However the Mastodon in this scenario is smaller than the angel dancing on a needle tip.
You wanted to learn coding for years and work from home for years and you also have immunocompromised possibilities, a new baby with similar, or some of the same, narcolepsy in one hand, anxiety coming from too much stimulation in the other leave you to figure out balance along with the false attributions you put on yourself out of false masculinity “You’re not a man if your staying at home with the baby right now!”. “Your were forced to be on unemployment right ..why isn’t that blog thing making money yet?!”
Time takes time from you with dividends. And for whatever you earn off of time the taxman likes to knock on the door.
Yes I don’t want a stranger watching my brand new baby during a global pandemic thank you very much and yes I am going to do everything I can to put life first.
If a rich man with a corporation has a bottom line so do I.
If a poor man can inherit the kingdom of God well so can I.
If the poor are close to God and the Kingdom of God is within the poor in spirit it seems pretty obvious that in the poor exists riches beyond comprehension.. hence the royalty and riches of a “kingdom” of the incomprehensibly glorious “God”.
Life keeps going and I keep on ‘recalcitrantly surviving’ in defiant joyful spite of if some think my life is expendable.
I do not ask them.
If they question me I can submit their questions to THE MANAGEMENT.
I am working on my project and I will succeed. Every once in a blue moon a memorandum should be made.
Every once in a while the Magna Carta written up, the ‘Terms and Conditions’ renewed.
They may change at any time mind you. Its a two way street this communication thing.
I am trying to keep motivated. I am going to make these dreams come true. And really I don’t know how to do any different. The subconscious is sandboxing. The Wiki is leaked. I am not afraid anymore.
I am tired but I have lost my edge. I am tired but I am not tired anymore.
I am growing. I am a warrior. I am motivated.
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