Words Matter
“If you are a prophet, what is your prophecy?” Dr. Michaels, my psychiatrist, asked me a long, long time ago.
“Well…I don’t have one.” I looked at this old man, with his beard and suit and tie. He was old school.
“Then you’re not a prophet,” he said and took a sip of Diet Coke.
The man had cancer in his youth, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him he would get it again if I saw him drinking that crap one more time.
But I’m a hypocrite. Every time I go to a restaurant, I get a Diet Coke. I don’t drink it at home, OK?
I’m a wordsmith. Words matter. I am no longer going to use the word prophet because you know what? I don’t have a prophecy.
Maybe I am a messenger. That’s it, that’s the word. Maybe that’s the word? Next you are going to ask me what my message is, and I do not have an answer.
How about teacher? I think that might work, even though I failed student teaching because I couldn’t control the kids in middle school. They’re animals, what can I say?
It’s simple, though. I teach.
But don’t put me in a box. I am not just a teacher; I am also a student.
There are many of us, whatever you want to call us, around town. But I’m different than the famous ones, like my Uncle Ji, Deepak Chopra, or the phenomenal Eckhart Tolle.
I’m not at their level.
I’m a flawed person. My ego is still very present. I’m materialistic; I like things. I like money. A lot.
I’m not a sage. I’m just a regular person whose life got interrupted by god’s voice.
Photo courtesy of Marie Dashkova via Scopio
But also, I am blessed to hear this beautiful, loving, witty voice. They call that grace in some religions; it is god’s grace that I, for some reason, can hear his voice.
I love god. I really do. More than I loved my father, and I didn’t love anyone on this earth more than my dad.
My father was an exceptional man; they don’t make men like him anymore. As Flannery O’Connor said many years ago, A Good Man Is Hard to Find.
So if I’m saying I think god is as great, if not greater than Dad, then I’m saying a lot.
I think we are all gods. We have forgotten our true nature. I know my true nature because the gods must be crazy.
I wonder sometimes if god is crazy. Look around at this world. He created this…maybe he could have done better? Or is it us? Could we do better?
He gave us free will, and look what we have done with it.
Speaking of prophecies, they are predicting the end of the world soon.
Like real soon. Something about AI.
Photo courtesy of Anastasia Casey via Scopio
I don’t know; I’ll probably be dead by the time it happens.
Honestly, I believe in reincarnation, but I don’t want a next life. I want to merge with the light and the love when I’m done here.
I mentioned that I remember some past lives. Well, some of them were thousands of years ago.
I’m done.
I’m tired.
Living has been great and everything, but I don’t need to do it again.
The only way out is through enlightenment, I believe, but I don’t truly understand what that is.
Maybe we can find out together.
nina
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