False Idols

The mind is fleeting and weak. The future becomes real only in retrospect. Until then, it is a fiction of the present tense.

The human soul: a finite resource under infinite pressure. To continually witness demands what language cannot hold.

The natural result of a fragile essence under sacred demand? Life within fog–misdirection so complete that the self believes that it sees.

Within fog, all light is worshipped. Stillness demands sacred immolation without relief.

When the weight of stillness cannot be endured, structure is sought. In fog, light becomes truth. Work, love, art, and other beacons assume a sacred shape, and each beckons as salvation.

What does one own other than his or her own soul? Nothing. Yet society is built on a singular illusion: the belief that the closer one stumbles towards a beacon the more worthy his or her soul.

To conflate the supposed greatness of an external thing as individual worthiness is at best deeply lost and at worst spiritually bankrupt.

And so a person builds a temple of mirrors, believing their reflection is proof of light. False idols for the soul.

In this temple, one is a debtor, enslaved to the light that promised to illuminate. The payment for living in illusion: the soul.

From early childhood to death, most become slaves and die as slaves.

Yet, some souls live and die free, remaining in the fog and ignoring the beckoning calls of false idols.

Not to be saved. Not to be seen. But to witness.

To refuse the false light, not out of spiritual superiority, but out of fidelity. To sit in silence in a world that demands worshipping false idols.

To bear what cannot be carried. To feel what defies understanding.

To immolate the self so that nothing remains. In that absence, something can emerge.

A soul, intact. A faithful witness. A rejection of false idols.