The Real Life

There they go.

Beautiful robots made of flesh and blood.

They are human in every way except for the lack of humanness. Some of them still have it, but keep it covered. They keep it controlled, and drugged and hypnotised so they don’t need to feel, or think, or be. They keep “doing” lots of different things, or the same old things, and in doing they think they are alive. They appear alive. That’s what matters most to them, how they “appear” to others. They rather suffer to appear perfect than to give in to the real. Nothing perfect can be real. The real pearl is gritty against the teeth, unlike synthetic. The real pearl is not a perfect round. It’s all about appearances now. Not about the real things, not about the gory details, the chrysalis, the nine months, the struggle, the sweat and all.

God forbid should they appear anything less than that, or others should catch a glimpse of their humanness. They are good people, most of the lot are actually very good people. It’s sad to see them like that, lost in all those layers like that of an onions’. They must feel suffocated sometimes surely, and confused, and heavy. Heavy from the layers and the baggage. The lucky ones receive a wake-up call, as the piercing alarm shatters their glass houses. The goodness within will wake up, and stir beneath those layers. The light will stir it awake.

You would think this is a good thing right?

Not for them.

For them it’s much or less the same as end of the world. Their friends don’t make it any easier because they genuinely don’t know how to handle the situation. So they avoid the lot like they would a bubonic plague. (Humans without the humanness are not very gracious lot). Like a domino effect, one by one, things start to collapse around them.  Who can explain it to them that what’s collapsing around them is the “fake stuff”. The light within their goodness that radiates from their shattered parts is seeking the highest, purest expression. It will no longer allow them to be happy with anything less.

It’s painful for humans when they wake up to their humanness.

Actually, it is excruciatingly painful.

But then the calm after the storm is something that makes it worthwhile. Have you noticed how everything turns bright, colourful and alive after the rain? Everything is washed clean, dirt scrubbed off and goodness revived.

The real life experience begins when the factory settings have been switched off. With feet on wet grass, eyes focusing on the horizon, sweat trickling on the brow, hands cold with excitement, heart warm with love, spirit unleashed. You are ready to embrace life. The real life. 


By Jal Patel

Photo Source: Dipping the Oar by Joe Lewit