Through Other Eyes

I dreamt last night that I was battling an evil witch.
Her previous opponents had all met ghastly fates, for this woman was strong and violent, and possessed of a deadly magic.

Just when I thought I had won, I caught sight of her, and woke up. I was looking at myself.

When the shakes died down, I wondered at this ability to dream of myself as , no doubt, some people see me.I seem to have an easy time of putting myself in an other's shoes, a talent which can be truly scary, and may lead, in the unprepared individual, to denial and a wish to escape reality. As indeed happened to me.

We can all do this - our connection is such that, with a little effort, or no effort at all,we can view ourselves as others see us, and also feel what it is like to be another.
But we don't use this facility often - some of us don't use it at all.For it's far more comfortable and culturally acceptable to live our lives within the artificial walls of our ego identities. Never feeling an other's pain, never knowing what it's like to be a part of this awful, wonderful organism called God.

Often, we take a worldview constructed by someone else and call it our own. The Afrikaners long for a General Delarey to come back and lead them. The Zulus look to a reincarnation of Shaka in the form of Jacob Zuma. The Rationalist seeks comfort and confirmation at Internet Infidels.

Masses of humanity appear to be souls wandering until they find A Leader, whose worldview they will then take on as their own, whether or not it accords with the deepest realities of their experience.

I would encourage us to forget the game of follow-the-leader. I would urge us to open up our deepest Selves and explore the view from there. I would invite us to share our experiences over dinner, without preconception, without undue influence from the cultures we are all, as Hecate says, marinating in.

As another dream of mine over a week ago pointed out, there are more, many more, rooms in this mansion than most of us are aware of. Perhaps it's time to inhabit some of those dusty, walled-up rooms of our own.

Pic found at another Transhumanist's site. Why do they always have the best illustrations?