No One is Coming to Save You

No one is coming to save you.

Let me tell you why this is a good thing . . .

But first, let’s get you up to speed.

This is the call of the journey. This is the part of the story where you - the guileless, unwitting hero - encounters the weirdo in the woods.

In the deep shadows we meet.

You, seeking . . . something nameless that you feel in your bones - a calling, a mission, a purpose. Something that is already rooted deep within you, but you don’t know how to cultivate it.

You feel it trying to grow inside you, and yet you don’t know if to feed it means salvation or sacrifice.

And me, smirking at you from my perch in the ancient tree, knowing that it’s both.

I know you seek the quest. And it is an eternal quest, because there is no end to the journey.

It’s a thirst that is never quite quenched, and it’s driven men mad before.

It will do it again.

Hell, we’re all mad here.

But NOT following the need for answers - for something more expansive than . . . THIS - is to accept the dull, hollow ache that you feel when you go to bed at night, wondering if THIS is all there is.

It’s accepting the writhing discomfort in your bowels as you fill your pew like a good lamb, nodding your head in subservience and not grasping any of what they’re inundating you with.

The sensation of starvation after a force-feeding.

Waking up in the morning and wondering if today is going to just be more of the same shit.

And why do you do those things?

Why have you devoted years of your life to them, when you have had far more than a sneaking suspicion that these things are not for you? That they’re the ancient, crumbling relics of a broken system?

I’ll tell you why.

Because those crumbling relics have been brightly painted and replastered so they look appealing. The cathedral around you is indeed a death-trap, just waiting for the slightest shift to all come tumbling down on the populace within.

You’re not imagining it.

But the people around you still go. Comfortably. Why? HOW?

You have been sold a very expansive and expensive lie.

That so long as you place your life into the hands of the powers that be, that everything will be ok.

That you will be rewarded.

That you will be given golden opportunities to move beyond THIS.

But you have to be patient, little lamb! You have to be quiet, and good, and worthy, and trust the process.

You have to stay in line, be nice, fill the pew, look the other way, tow the line . . .

Bend the knee.

Soon. It will all be yours. Soon.

Except there isn’t enough to go around. Sorry, we forgot to mention that part. We hold the purse strings, and we choose how much is in circulation. You have to take the shares we give you.

You get the rewards we choose to bestow. Are you sure you’ve earned it? I don’t know, this is an awful lot of money for someone like you. This is an AWFUL lot of salvation for a human of your . . . caliber.

We need to think on this. Reconvene. Discuss your place in the grand scheme. We’ll get back to you.

In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing.

Or else.

And fuck, that “or else . . .” scares the shit out of you. Because what is it? What lies beyond the “else?”

That is why the masses fill the building, and stand when they’re told, and their cracking throats sing the praises of dead air.

Because to not is to accept that this construct is a lie, the building is crumbling, and there is nobody coming to save them.

And for a moment, you feel like you’re free-falling. When you realize that you’ve been waking up to the lies, and none of it is true, and all your worst suspicions were spot. fucking. on.

You panic, and the world slides out from underneath your feet.

And the WORST part?

None of the gurus can save you either.

The spiritual bitches, the cult leaders, the gods and goddesses that have been sold to you as replacements for your crumbling ruin - none of them are footing that you can land on.

As long as you wait for them to support your weight, you will continue to slide, heavy and uncontrolled, from thing to thing.

You will wonder why nothing is working. Why you are struggling so much.

Which way is up?

You will cry to yourself that it isn’t fair.

Tumbling.

That there needs to be a bottom.

Help me.

That this is quicksand, and you already have so many things going on, and this is just too much. You need help. You need a hand.

Someone needs to help you!

The universe owes you that much!

And here’s where the horrible, uncomfortable truth creeps in, and liberates you.

The Universe owes you nothing.

Nothing.

Life isn’t fair.

There is nothing that has been created that will catch you in your fall and support your weight.

And here’s why . . .

Because you are in the uncomfortable place of being just outside the matrix enough that it no longer supports you, but you have not yet figured out how to craft your own world.

You have to be willing to see yourself as the sovereign being in the room.

Because nothing is going to save you.

Until you save yourself.

Saving yourself can be as simple as giving in to the anger and grief and howling to yourself that you are alone.

That’s often a step in the process.

Now, you’re not alone - not really. But you have to be willing to be alone in order to make the rest of the shit work.

You have to sit in alone-ness and find a spark there.

Because at the end of the day you have you. Nobody else can live in your head with you. Not even the angels and deities who want to help you are more present in your skull than you are.

So everything, the whole goddamn universe, starts and ends with you in. this. moment.

That is so painful. So uncomfortable. So shitty.

Because it means you’re responsible for everything that comes from this point forward.

And it’s also the most powerful thing that’s ever going to happen to you.

Because you are in charge of EVERYTHING from this point forward.

And then, you’re going to feel the ground under your feet. It’s going to feel weird, and maybe barren, and likely unstable.

But it’s going to be YOUR world, slowly spreading under your feet, ready to be told what to be.

And I will smile at you from my weird, gnarled trees, growing on the weird world that I grew under my own feet.

Because it means we’re growing our worlds side by side, and there are few things as beautiful as that.

But first, you have to stop your free-fall.

Are you the sovereign being in the room, or not?