Kidnaped, imprisoned consciousness's

 

Each colour, taste and smell, has its liking according to culture, customs, consciousness…

Also could be said, that each situation, each experience… is not subjected to a unique interpretation… but, rather, each interpretation is a product of a kidnapping of consciousness.

The consciousness is sculptured -like the trunk of a tree- according… to custom and taste of the rest. Nevertheless!, each tree trunk is different; with the result that, despite sculpturing, there are options so that the figure that arises, the being that arises, the consciousness that arises, as well as being what others want it to be, it can contribute a small novelty.

In being -the being- so manipulated, so structured, according to the bosom of the society in which it arises, soon it will become “anti-something”: anti-war, anti-peace…

Soon it will be educated in the arts of combating -with thoughts, with words, with actions-… It will try to defend what is best, without being attacked.

And, like this, can be arrived to the limit that each one looks to exterminate the other.

Faced with these coordinates, faced with this camouflaged prison, it is difficult to daydream, it is difficult to imagine, it is difficult to be poetical, it is difficult to… idealize; a minimum understanding of the evident which surrounds us is “very difficult”. And if this is difficult, how can you… accommodate the consciousness, to feel something more than its customs, reasons, logic and traditions? How?!

Probably, our presence as “life”, in this level of consciousness, wasn't that we kidnap ourselves through ourselves, but probably we had -and we have- the possibility that, when we arrive to life, that we be a flower that opens to the emptiness, that perfumes the surroundings, that… brings happiness and taste to all.

 

With the ordinary consciousness, the attitude faced with the Mystery becomes hostile!, doubtful!, mistrusting!... If also is suspected, that maybe this Mystery could intervene in our lives, then… the consciousness becomes mean; the being becomes a protest and a continual complaint.

Because, really, the Mystery -as the equivalent of the Divine-, in not being able to assimilate it… as an evidence, everyone fabricates it in its style. And when daily is verified that… what happens is not what we wanted, the being rebels, protests, angers, becomes sad...

For one moment he thought the world was him… and only him. And sometimes, suddenly!, the being notices that there are other beings…; that even think; that eat other things; that have fun in other ways…

“How is that possible?!... How is it possible that my God is not the same as yours?”

Because, of course, everybody thinks that “theirs” is the true one.

So much so, that… the humanity is distributed in millions of believers: some, in a God, in some Gods; and others, in others. And the Gods don't come to an agreement.

It fits to ask oneself how is it possible that our consciousness is so… prison-like, so sectarian!, that thinks, that feels and has the certainty! –“Certainty”- that its God is unique and the true one.

The Mystery of the mysteries becomes -for many cultures throughout time- something known; something manageable…

It seems that for nothing served the persecutions, executions, famines, wars, plagues, illness, sufferings and pains… by different consciousness’s.

It is, of course!, very difficult to learn in a cage; it is very difficult to learn in a kidnapping; it is very difficult to survive a persecution…

And like this is how the humanity marches to its destruction, for its… incapacity to come out of the prison.

It was born in the prison, grew in the prison… and its life was the prison. There it fabricated its God, its images, its photographs and its systems of adoration. It interpreted the events according to its partial vision –that, evidently, wasn't shared with others-.

And what is more… alarming and significant, as a warning from the praying sense of today: is that, each one in its pavilion -in its pavilion, where there are thousands and thousands of cells- feels and thinks that it is free!, it feels in its… environment and believes that this is “life”. It meticulously complies with its rituals, with its morals and its different customs… Yes!, sometimes it has approached the window of its prison and has seen stars, yes, but… well!, others will take care of classifying them, giving them names and they are… there!

Also those of pavilion 8 have heard, that those of pavilion three are a little sick… of hunger! It is a strange illness, the illness of hunger. It's curious: it has never been called a “sickness”; or a “syndrome”. But, curiously, the people die of hunger.

“Yes. But surely-say those who don't suffer hunger- surely it is because they are… lazy, negligent, they don't work… surely…”

It's curious, because daily –“daily”- millions of beings are assassinated, because of hunger and thirst. -It’s an illness, as we have said-. And it is done deliberately; consciously.

Those who cultivate, those who dominate the earth, those who process the food, those who politicalise its price, those who “know how and in what way to produce”, know… how many are going to die.

These assassinations are not categorised by the law. They are “natural”, “normal”… deaths.

And those who daily program and project these deaths, go every day to the temple, look in their sacred books and comply with their hand outs. And they will have a “peaceful” consciousness. And, despite that they are pointed out, despite that they are denounced by others, they will easily defend themselves because they are “the majority”.

 

Many, in their Divine models, ask why does God not come and punish the bad ones, reward the good and resolve the hunger and the injustice.

I believe it is easy to say that… “this” is not God, but –rather- it is a leader, an emperor or a… “kind” warrior –which… does not exist-.

One question that seems as if has nothing to do with this: love is respectful?

-Oh, yes!, of course!…

-Ah, “yes, of course”? Well. And is it possible that, in the Mystery of life, this Mystery that has permitted life –and, very probably loves us- respects the life… that there is?

-Yes! It is possible.

-And if it respects the life that there is -this Mystery that has promoted that life appears-, is it possible that, in its respect, it is so respectful, so loving, that it doesn't intervene –apparently, because it is a Mystery- it doesn't intervene in what makes, unmakes, projects, is mistaken or gets right… the human being?

 

So, if it was like this, we should have to notice this Love of Life, which the mysterious creator dispenses and assume the responsibilities that correspond to each one because of creating a consciousness of kidnapping and prison.

So that, as a consequence, we could act in a different way! At least, that we know and have consciousness that we are… imprisoned!

And at least, that we know, -that we know- that the fundamental obligation, the fundamental obligation of a prisoner is to escape, to run away; which supposes a risk; which supposes an unpredictable situation; which occasions unexpected events; which supposes luck or… or not!

Something similar to a Mystery.

 

Don’t make, of love, a prison.

Don’t make, of respect, a combat.

Don’t make, of… the hopes, an impossible.

TIAN

TIAN

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