Exodus ad Aeternum: An Allegory of Life’s Dream

By Tyson Teeples

If the fog in the valley has settled in, arise, and go to the mountain.
If your existence feels like a fever dream of cyclic, secular sepsis, seek safety at the summit.
If life is dark, it is time to seek the light in the night, conquer your demons, and find life lit by glorious abundance.
It’s time to note merely exist in the shadows, but to live in the light!
Vivere est vincere: To live is to conquer.
This is an archetypical tale of the hero embarking on a journey of self-discovery. You may see patterns from your own life journey in these pages. After all, the greatest story ever told of a hero on a journey . . . is the story of YOU.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
• Release date: Oct 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781662936067

Book preview

EXODUS 0.0 INTRODUCTION

There is a plague spreading through the Fallen. A pandemic of spiritual sickness sweeps the earth; not for lack of healing truth, and not for lack of spiritual medicine, but for lack of faith to be made whole.

Or perhaps the pestilence proliferates due to a lack of hope, which is the seed of faith.

With hopeless perceptions of poor personal prognosis, faithless souls wallow within the mass misery of the ailing multitude.

After a short period of incubation in such a contagious culture, the eye of faith goes blind, the light of hope snuffs out, and suffering in spiritual darkness ensues.

The symptoms are internal: greed, envy, anxiety, fear, shame, emotional pain, and depression, to name a few.

The signs are diagnostic: failed relationships, broken families, preventable health problems, unemployment, homelessness, violence, crime, suicide, and suffering on a mass scale.

These signs and symptoms cluster into a syndrome of narcissistic behavior, entitled deception, financial dishonesty, mindless consumerism, disconnected marriage, excessive debt, vile vanity, emotionally neglected children, and vain attempts at self-medication with the addictive vices of alcohol, illicit drugs, promiscuity, pornography, gluttony, and sensory binge-overload.

But what is the etiology of this widespread, shortsighted infirmity?

A paucity of personal responsibility.

A scarcity of emotional honesty.

A deficiency of culpability.

A dearth of humility.

A lack of curiosity.

In short, the nations of the earth roam blindly in absence of Conscious Intelligence.

Conscious Intelligence: Sovereign free agency, born of self-awareness of one’s connection to the Universe and with relationship to God.

Indeed, such sovereignty over self is the aggregate sum of rigorous personal responsibility, honesty, culpability, humility, and curiosity.

These balms are available, but rarely sought with adequate diligence to find them.

Abundant, rather, is the inflammatory, inoculating influence of the collective cohort, creating a clouded smokescreen through which the pathways to personal peace and individual purpose are veiled.

Individuality is lost as each member of a spiritually sick society surrenders self-sovereignty to a group mentality. With such surrender, perceived identity becomes a mere constellation of inculcated ideologies where group morality governs individual ethics. Life becomes a series of cyclical behaviors to appease the crowd, fit in with the mob, and find perceived safety in the tribe, gang, or faction.

Personal purpose is mistakenly perceived as a personal prerogative of pushing the public’s persuasions. Inflammatory ideas escalate in virulence and increase in efficiency of infectivity when individuals incorporate ideologies as inherent individual identity. It is a false sense of safety where immoral indulgences are often justified and glorified.

But why is group mentality often coupled with harmful, immoral behavior?

Internal tension swells within the mind’s neurochemical matrix as inborn expectations and metrics set by society create a framework of hierarchy fraught with the fear of not measuring up. A subtle serpent may whisper the snake-oil statement of shame, You are not enough! Quick! Hide!

Tension arises when life is viewed in a horizontal comparison of self to others, rather than the vertical view of a connection with the entire Universe, and a relationship with the God who commands it. Trust is placed in the arm of flesh, and the vain viper of tyranny may tempt, Worship thou me.

Tension is found in the loss of perceived control over the instinctual actions of the unconscious. Gripped in cultural ideology, a pustule of perception swells to which we wistfully sigh of lost control, My life is not my own.

The unconscious mind seeks to alleviate this tension on a moment-to-moment basis, and the solutions offered by society are often means and methods that lead to more tension. Seeking to maintain internal, tensionless homeostasis is futile if the means lead to an end that is merely the beginning of a cyclical loop. The masses run in circles, spending time on things that cannot fulfill a deeper need and money for that which cannot satisfy the loneliness of the unconscious soul.

Truly, giving life’s reins to the dictates of crowd psychology is the inversion of a faith-based life.

For the faithless individual, a future of fortitude is traded for the immediate reward of a coddling placebo of crowd-pleasing. For the faithless crowd, vices are administered as self-pleasing sugar pills.

And yet, within a colony of cloned, ideologically conditioned mindsets, there remains an instinctual need for individual relevance. And thus, the endemic inflammation cycle escalates, wound boundaries are pushed, and the envelope of insanitation is expanded on a mass scale, further infecting the individual minds into succumbing to the crowd’s cheering congratulations of hidden, self-harming sin. In return, each inoculated individual—for the purpose of pursuing public praise and raising relative relevance—pushes society’s agenda yet a few more steps towards a catastrophic cliff. Signaling the perceived virtues of the crowd without real personal conviction or integrity creates a distorted reality.

Neighborly love and community unity are lost when, in building our worldly mansions and political platforms, we are quick to dig pits and place stumbling blocks for those around us.

Paradoxically, individual prowess in pushing a group mentality quickly becomes psychological isolation. In a life where reactive, protective, and dominance instincts drive action, unity with others is superficial, loneliness replaces harmoniousness, and apathy replaces empathy. When isolation becomes the ailment to be treated, group safety is again sought, and the cycle continues ad infinitum.

Spiritual sepsis ensues; vices become virtues, and madness becomes morality.

Stumbling in a fog of self-denigrating victimhood, wandering in a mist of self-adulating secularism, and groping in the smutty smog of pleasure-seeking, the multitudes march on as the blind repeatedly lead the blind into the pits of agony and sorrow.

Meaningless suffering leads to desperation and despair.

Lost in the haze of self-defeating habits and unconscious reactions, the masses give way to the animalistic instincts of the mind where basal drives dominate daily lives.

Autonomous psychological complexes rule and reign in the shadows of the unconscious mind, directing action as possessive demons from the deep.

In today’s world, the speed of the Subconscious Instinct thrives; rapid reflexes perform well in a fast-paced environment. Subtlety, sophistry, guile, and guise are tactical weapons in the daily grinding gears of modern civilization. Reactionary prowess is beneficial in seeking dominance in the day-to-day competitions within the hierarchies of society.

Subconscious Instinct: The subconscious mind (nurture) of memory, experience, and conditioning, and the unconscious mind (nature) of an endowed psyche formed over generations.

I often group the (collective) unconscious and the (personal) subconscious into one, defining them together as the psychological universe swirling just below the surface of consciousness; this landscape inside the mind is fraught with autonomous complexes, archetypal algorithms, patterns, fractals, shadows, guardians, imagos, protections, projections, and protocols of reaction.

This internal matrix of the mind is a system that generates thoughts, emotions, perceptions of meaning, and reaction.

Over generations, the infection of infirm ideas may multiply, and the contamination of culture becomes a congenital condition. Youth are reared in a victim-wins-all mentality.

Indeed, entire generations are trained up in the false traditions of their fathers.

Subconscious Instinct is not to be loathed, however, as the unconscious psyche constitutes a necessary set of neurological programs and psychological algorithms that ensure survival, including strategies for protection and procreation.

It is the mastery of self as an individual that is the key to a healthy society. To be made whole as a people, each individual must find healing. To be made whole as an individual, Subconscious Instinct must be recognized and understood by the Conscious Intelligence.

The inversion of individual isolation within a feigned group safety net is the individuation of the self and, with it, enhanced unity of society.

Safety of the individual is not found in herd mentality, but rather the strength of the group is found in the self-sovereign summation of strength of the group’s individuals.

To gain self-sovereignty, the unconscious psyche must be observed objectively and governed strategically. Only then can the energy found in the rapid reflexes of the Subconscious Instinct be assimilated, directed, molded, and honed as an instrument of the Conscious Intelligence.

Purpose, meaning, and satisfaction in life are found when the system acts as one.

Alas, the matrix of mortality’s meaning is a treasure to be found inside the mind of man; meaning is not found in the external environment.

Together, the conscious and unconscious mind become a unified system of action that stands upon a firm footing of faith, yielding the outcome of skills, talents, and abilities. Together, they create habits of efficiency, proficiency, and mastery. Together, they create programs of competence and excellence. Together, they run algorithms of creation, each elevating the other to increased capacity of the body, and increased consciousness of the mind.

Transcending duality is the process of Conscious Ascension.

Conscious Ascension: Broadening awareness of one’s position in the community, nation, world, and universe. But more importantly, understanding one’s position inside the internal landscape of the mind.

To transcend the duality of the conscious and unconscious, faith and works are required. Faith is required to individuate from the collective mind of man.

Secular blindness is cured when looking through the corrective lens of faith.

Faith is the conscious acknowledgment of a desired outcome in the future, and an awareness of the work, preparation, and sacrifice necessary to reach that goal. Faith is the metaphysical substance of things hoped for, and evidence of a potential future yet unseen. Faith is the clear vision of a place in time and space and the freedom to pursue that place with vigor and vitality.

Faith is objective curiosity!

Faith is a bargain with the future with interest that accumulates exponentially, even eternally.

Yes, faith is an investment.

All faith is based in the knowledge and confidence that we are safe to realize and pursue these potentials of physical and metaphysical capacity, and strive for them within a space of predictability. This mortal life of sensory experience is exactly such a space, where the past becomes a lesson manual, and the future is a blank canvas of creation.

We are safe to act, rather than react; we are safe to act, rather than be acted upon.

We are safe to learn and apply the lessons of the past to the future. We are safe to sacrifice today for something better tomorrow.

The frenzy for fleeting feelings subsides when faith is fostered.

Life is an educational experience of trial and error, cause and effect. At times our unconscious mind makes reactive determinations that result in painful outcomes for ourselves and others.

Conscious course corrections are necessary, and restitution is required.

Through faith, healing corrections can be made, and damage can be repaired. Through faith, the sickness of society is healed, and ideological immunity is acquired. Through faith, vision is regained, and the tunnel vision of the myopic masses fades away.

There exists a pearl of equanimity uncommonly obtained; so straight is the gate and so narrow is the path, few there be that find it. The pearl of tensionless equilibrium is this: the shame of past guilt and the fear of the unknown future are projected figments of the unconscious mind and can be overcome.

This pearl of great price is found in a witness that safety for this mortal period has been provided through Christ who overcame the world.

By overcoming past sin and future death, Christ created a place in time and space where we are free to develop and progress within the fog-clearing clarity of His love.

This is the tensionless, homeostatic gift of the present.

Within this wakeful space of here and now, we are At One, or whole. All things are before us in consciousness, and we are able to discern truth from error.

In the conscious moment, shame of the past and fear of the future subside, and the burden of societal expectation fades away. No longer captive in collective conditioning, tension is lifted, peace is possible, and a sense of salvation settles where burdens were once borne. Once this knowledge of space-time safety is made sure, the grand adventure through the Fallen is exhilarating.

We do not—and cannot—earn salvation, but we can certainly put ourselves in a position to consciously experience the joy of our salvation.

The task of our adventure through life is to harness the power of the body’s reflexes—Subconscious Instinct—to be used at the command, wisdom, and foresight of the Conscious Intelligence within.

The Conscious Self will find lasting joy in harnessing the power of emotions, thoughts, hormones, motives, drives, sensations, and actions of the human brain and body.

The Unconscious Self will find fleeting pleasure and become enslaved in despair by emotions, thoughts, hormones, motives, addictions, and reactions of the human brain and body.

The balance of which version of the self you list to obey is a complex calculation; indeed, it is an algorithm that is constructed in the private chambers of your heart and mind. You are currently living out the most epic adventure imaginable!

Your life is happening inside of you.

Each day you are spanning the gap in space-time between where you are as the sun rises, and where you will be at day’s end. Time marches on, and with it, so do you. You do not get to choose whether or not you march, but you do get to determine the direction, and therefore, your destiny.

Are you actively moving towards the place you have consciously chosen?

Or are you being passively escorted by your unconscious drives?

The degree to which you are aware of your awareness, and conscious of your consciousness, will largely determine how much lasting joy and rejoicing you will experience in your life, or if you will consciously experience life’s adventure at all.

This truth begs the question: How is increased self-awareness to be gained? How is faith to be fostered? How is Conscious Intelligence acquired?

We gain insight into ourselves when we study human nature.

History becomes a powerfully instructive library of patterns of what humans are capable of, not only in treachery and darkness, but in love and light. Learning is the cornerstone of faith, because learning brings new ideas, and new ideas provide the hope—or warning—of possibilities of the light and darkness in the potential outcomes of our own behavior.

Therefore, all the ancient stories in history and scripture are of benefit to you and me. When likened to our own individual lives, we find hidden treasures of knowledge by study, and also by faith, that is, when we incorporate the lessons and patterns into our own ways of living.

The tales, allegories, myths, archetypal patterns, and parables of human history are the patterns of your life and mine. The prodigal son, the Samaritan, the fig tree, the sower, the seed, the virgins’ lamps, the wheat, the tares, the vineyard, the net, the talents, and the lost sheep are all patterns of human nature.

Perhaps the lost sheep is you, and perhaps you know it.

But perhaps you don’t.

Perhaps you have buried a talent-coin in the earth, and perhaps you know it.

But perhaps you forgot where you buried your treasure.

Perhaps there are scales over your eyes, and your unconscious mind is driving your unguided soul in the direction of a dark destiny. Perhaps there are tares of bad habit and self-sabotage sown amongst—and eventually choking out—the budding wheat of your hopes and dreams.

Perhaps there is more to learn and self-control, self-acceptance, and self-love to be gained.

If life is not turning out how you had hoped, your task is to go into the darkness of your unconscious mind, illuminate the secrets there, and gain an understanding of who you really are: why you think what you think, why you feel what you feel, and why you do what you do.

There may be patterns playing out below your consciousness that are hampering your journey to the high ground of true happiness.

To find the Conscious Intelligence inside of you, you must go into the darkness of your unconscious mind and rewrite the programs, retrain the instincts and habits, and reconfigure the way you see life—or more importantly, the way you perceive yourself—and therefore alter the way you experience the world around you. You must emerge from the collective mindset of humankind, rule the autonomous complexes of unconscious behavior, and stand as a free individual with a firm vision of personal purpose.

Perhaps your task is to go into the unconscious void of the psyche and stand face-to-face with the elusive demons that dance in the darkness.

You don’t know what you don’t know, and unless you get curious, you might remain sightless in the smoke, never experiencing the vast breadth and depth of life’s landscape. Without curiosity, you may never experience the fullness of joy you are meant to experience. Without curiosity, you may never experience the brilliance of your own inner light or the miracle of your own existence. Without curiosity, you will never witness the beautiful process of your Conscious Ascension.

But tread cautiously.

The person inside of you may be a frightened child, hiding in the dark shadows of your mind.

That divine child inside of you may be guarded by the reciprocal of your ego, a legion of shadows at the command of your soul image, indeed a cherubim with its flaming sword standing as a sentinel, a guardian, and a guide.

The divine self—the child of God—may be lost in the forest of a fractured psyche, suffering from the secular sickness of society. That child may be caught in the caverns of the crippling conditioning of chaotic culture. The version of you who you think you know—the ego-conscious self—may be too scared to look across the void, and instead finds safety in a walled-in, narrow-minded existence of ego-consciousness.

And yet, shedding the masked pretense of the ego-conscious self opens a conduit of light through the abyss, through which you may see an image of a child of God, standing at the tree of life, partaking of the fruits of peace, joy, and love.

You may feel that your inner child is in need of the healing balms of validation, compassion, acceptance, and love, or that the child may be waiting for you to find him and lead him out of the mist, and into the healing light of consciousness.

And yet, in an inversion of perspective, you may see that the image of God’s child is beckoning to you, and that it is you who needs his healing light.

You may feel that the child inside you is in need of a miracle. Or maybe it is you who needs the miracle of the child of God inside of you.

Blessedly, the day of miracles has not ceased! After the work and trials of faith, miracles are available to you and me. It is possible to find living water as sweet as wine, to quench the parched tongue in the spiritual drought of our time.

The journey to higher ground is required to see the narrow pathway clearly.

It is possible to have eyes to see, ears to hear, and even the ability to rise up and move as on the wings of awareness, becoming healed by washing in the gently falling waters at the summit, and forged in the fires found in the deepest fissures of hell.

But no one will force you; you must arise, and go to the mountain of your own free will.

After the trial and works of faith, the mist will clear, and you will see how beautiful you truly are. You will see and recognize yourself as an invaluable extension of a grand, expanding universe, experiencing and creating itself in sacred ways. You will see yourself as a child of God, destined for greatness in this world and beyond.

If the fog in the valley has settled in, arise, and go to the mountain. If your existence feels like a fever dream of cyclic, secular sepsis, seek safety at the summit. If life is dark, it is time to hunt the light in the night, conquer your demons, and find life in glorious abundance.

It’s time not to merely exist in the shadows, but to live in the light!

Vivere est vincere. To live is to conquer.

I hope you enjoy this archetypal tale of the hero on a journey of self-discovery. I challenge you to look for the patterns of your own life in these pages.

After all, the greatest story ever told of a hero on a journey … is the story of you.

~ TJ Teeples, MD

Not for a moment dare we succumb to the illusion that the (hero) archetype can be finally explained and disposed of. Even the best attempts at explanation are only more or less successful translations into another metaphorical language. Indeed, language itself is only an image. The most we can do is dream the myth onwards and give it a modern dress. And whatever explanation or interpretation does to it, we do to our own souls as well, with corresponding results for our own well-being. The (hero) archetype—let us never forget this—is a psychic organ present in all of us.

~ Carl G. Jung (additions in parentheses)

He that keepeth his commandments receiveth truth and light,

until he is glorified in truth and knoweth all things.

*

Man was also in the beginning with God.

Intelligence, or the light of truth,

was not created or made,

neither indeed can be.

*

All truth is independent in that sphere

in which God has placed it,

to act for itself, as all intelligence also;

otherwise there is no existence.

*

Behold, here is the agency of man,

and here is the condemnation of man;

they receive not the light.

*

And every man whose spirit receiveth

not the light is under condemnation.

*

For man is spirit.

The elements are eternal,

and spirit and element,

inseparably connected,

receive a fullness of joy;

*

And when separated, man cannot

receive a fullness of joy.

*

The glory of God is intelligence,

or, in other words, light and truth.

*

Light and truth forsake that evil one.

*

Every spirit of man was innocent in the beginning;

and God having redeemed man from the fall, men became again,

in their infant state, innocent before God.

*

And that wicked one cometh and taketh away light and truth,

through disobedience, from the children of men,

and because of the tradition of their fathers.

~ Joseph Smith, Jr., Doctrine & Covenants 93:28–40

Quod est superius est sicut quod inferius,

et quod inferius est sicut quod est superius.

*

As Above, so Below.

As the Universe, so the Soul.

As the Mind, so the Animation.

As the Brushstroke, so the Illustration.

As the Molecule, so the Mole.

As the Fractal, so the Whole.

As the Parent, so the Generation.

As the Man, so the Nation.

As within, so without.

As the seed, so the sprout.

All is One.

One is All.

*

The microcosm mirrors the macrocosm.

How you do anything is how you do everything.

*

The Fractal is the Map.

*

~ Adapted from Hermes Trismegistus, alas, Moses of Egypt

EXODUS 0.1 PROLOGUE

Esne paratus?

My unconscious mind races and asks the question over and over again.

I shake my head. I inhale. My spine tingles and my eyes well up. I blink. A tear falls. I look at the glass Urim of Intuition in my palm once again and read the words inscribed thereon.

Words from the shadows.

The words that appear on crystal mandala are unfamiliar, but I understand them perfectly.

Esne paratus? Are you ready?

I nod in the affirmative. I exhale.

My emotions surge. My heart light pulsates. I grip the stone and whisper the edict of the talisman.

Ut vivat temporis. It’s time to go.

EXODUS 1.0 THE GREAT AND SPACIOUS BUILDING

Spiritual awakening

is awakening from

the dream of thought.

*

Eckart Tolle

The lights here are bright, almost blinding. I can see with my eyes wide open, but I prefer squinting.

I inhale slowly. I blink. I look around.

My surroundings seem surreal.

Where am I? Am I awake?

Did I awaken from a dream into this startling state of unfamiliar reality?

I squint more intensely within my mind’s query. The question flips in an inversion of thought.

Or did I awaken from reality into an unconscious state of dreamlike lucidity?

I look up. My pupils dilate. I focus my gaze. I turn around.

I study my elaborate circumvention with epistemic curiosity.

I see infinite arrays of illuminated rooms and grand galleries.

I see innumerable polished windows and garnished doorways.

I see countless sweeping escaliers and grand balconies.

I see a myriad of long corridors and branching cloisters.

I see vast networks of arched halls and mirrored walls.

I am in a building.

A repeating fractal kaleidoscope of grand architecture.

I am in a very large building.

It is a recurring dreamlike scene of repeating themes.

I hear a great mass of people.

It is a crowded building.

There are others here.

Many others.

The crowd is dense here.

There is an air of joviality.

A splendid celebration.

A glamorous gala.

A sensational ceremony.

I see droves of debutantes posing in bedazzling redundancy. I see young men in variegated regalia, tailored and tight. I see distinguished gentlemen adorned with honors and marks of secular achievement. I see women of worldly formality, poised for praise.

I see a collective culture of competitive couture.

I look around. The pattern is ubiquitous.

The dizzying themes of society repeat just as the architecture that holds it.

I scan the crowd in search of a cause for such an elaborate event. The magnitude of the multitude is magnificent; the splendor of the soiree is simply superb! Perhaps it’s a grand ball or carnival.

It’s sensational.

My lips purse and my brow furrows as my thoughts again flip.

It’s superfluous.

Both thoughts ring true. Truly, the festivity is fraught with finery and flattery.

Hypnotic hype.

Formal fanfare.

Dazzling displays.

Embellished excitement.

I huff and blink, again finding an inversion of thought to be equally true.

Pompous puffery.

I nod my head back and forth as my mind does the same. I question the reversal of viewpoint. The view is familiar to me, as if this place is personal, prosaic, and proverbial to my very soul.

And yet something is different tonight.

Nothing is different in this place. The patterns hold.

Something is different inside of me.

My brow furrows more deeply. Questions form in my thoughts.

Am I caustic and critical?

I oscillate.

Or complicit and congratulatory?

I shrug.

Or impartial and merely curious?

With these thoughts my gaze snaps down and I look at my own clothing. I raise my hands into view and look at my soft skin and ringed fingers. I supinate my wrists and stare at my palms.

Am I one of them?

I am confused and cautious in such comminatory contemplation.

Are they praiseworthy and prodigious?

Am I?

I shake my head.

Or are they posturing and pretentious?

Am I?

I look to the throng and scan their faces for clues.

It’s instinctive to look at them to know who I am.

I see smiles and hear laughter.

Are they genuinely joyful? Is the glee authentic?

Or do they conceal contempt within their carefree cause?

I look up from the crowd and refocus on the architecture. Just as I query the cause of the crowd, I question the authenticity of the juggernaut en toto.

Even the framework feels a facade.

I nod sideways and squint again.

Or is my perception of this place a projection of my perception of myself?

I shrug.

It is superb.

I relax my shoulders and exhale.

It is sordid.

The tapestries are lavish and the chandeliers exceedingly fine. The tiles and balustrades, fixtures and furniture are those of royalty. Hides and furs, deep-pile carpets and lavish rugs over polished concrete, exotic wood inlays, and the textured walls all come together to enmesh in combinations of contrasts that enrich the overly ornate ornamentation of ostentatious order.

Money is not an object here and excess seems the norm.

There are expansive windows covering the exterior walls, each antepagmentum adorned with embellished, embroidered draperies and gold-threaded, gilded valances as noble as their regal surroundings.

In the glass I see my reflection and the reflection of the people here.

It is hard to see out of these polished windows. The glossy reflection of the light inside the room keeps me from seeing much of what is beyond the glass.

But I know it is dark out there—and cold.

I shiver as if in memory.

It is dark out there, cold, dangerous, and lonely.

I grimace.

And yet tonight I feel lonely here too.

For several minutes I wander slowly, lost in quiet thought, searching my environment for meaning.

I search inside myself for my own meaning within my environment.

I feel distant from myself. I cannot find a concise or clear-cut cause for my collusion in this crowd.

I am one of the multitude, without a sense of individual purpose.¹

I shrug again and make a silent, defensive declaration of thought.

Being lonely here is better than being vulnerable to what is out there.

A sudden eruption of loud laughter interrupts my thoughts and reminds me that although lonely, I am rarely alone. The sounds of chatter and fanfaronade are constant. The din of the dancing drove is upbeat and excitable.

But tonight, it is empty sounding.

Yes, it is loud here.

But not harmonious.

A thought comes to my mind, and I wistfully half-smile to myself. With a brief, exhaled grunt, I repeat it in my mind.

Noise of the crowd, drowning out the noise within.

I hear the repetitive, familiar rhythm of the music.

I hear conversations on top of conversations.

I hear words on top of words.

Words of the wisdom of the world.

Words of firm opinion.

Words of subtle sophistry.

Words of importance, on things.

Accolades.

Achievement.

Acquirement.

Access.

Ascension.

Glory, laud, and honor.

Praise to the men.

Plaudis to the children.

Panegyric prose to the women.

I see constant comparisons. I see the way they look at one another.

But not truly at each other.

They look at each other as a measurement of themselves with some internal metric of hierarchy.

They measure themselves against each other.

The race for status is the status quo.

I see the way they look at me.

But not at me.

They look at the marks of status I have achieved.

They look to the marks of my worldly ascension and offer congratulatory nods of acceptance at the symbolic measures of my greatness, my apron of power, and my aiguillette of authority.

They see the symbols of my success.

Symbols of success in fit physique, admirable appearance, and fashionable adornment.

Symbols of success in professed faith, egotistical spirituality, and portrayed positions of piety with a pretense of feigned perfection.

Symbols of success in family life, advanced progeny, and perfectly posed pictures of praiseworthy posterity.

Symbols of success in finance, flaunting wealth and positions of worldly power.

I wander, deep in thought, noticing things today that I have previously been blind to, or perhaps unwilling to acknowledge. I have, in the past, had a fleeting, infrequent moment of clarity and looked around in disbelief that my life has come to this.

I hide the thought quickly as it stings my soul.

Tonight, the thought returns.

There is a pretense of purpose here, but no lasting meaning.

I wince.

So much time I have spent here.

So much effort I have exerted here.

I have wandered around and around these rooms for as long as I can remember. Tonight I feel the burden of this boisterous boon as a beast on my back.

I feel the expectation of excellence.

I feel the drive to thrive.

It is exhausting.

I squint again.

I am searching tonight.

But for what?

When does it end?

What is this game?

My eyes widen as my mind dares to form the honest answer. I whisper.

Obtaining more in order to feel worthy of more.

Maybe that’s it. Obtaining more seems to be the object of my existence here.

I have forgotten any other existence.

I remember only these people. I remember only this competition. I remember only these grand halls and spacious rooms. They are all connected. They are all intertwined. This system of architecture with its vast multitude invites me to go deeper and deeper, the layers of walls enshrouding my mind. The patterns of architecture and patterns of activity are seductive.

Luring. Pulling.

I hum to myself.

This place is a maze.

Is there a map?

My mind is a haze.

Or is it a trap?

I am suddenly acutely aware of the grand scope of this place, this plaza, this palace, this palazzo.

This pompous placebo of personal purpose.

I used to praise this great maze, but now I gaze at the laze. I look back at the storm outside the window.

This lifestyle of luxury is the easy way out.

My perception of this place has shifted. I shake my head at what I see now. How did I not see this moments ago? Or all this time? Was it there, in their eyes, and I simply did not see?

The daze in their eyes.

The craze of the prize.

The gaudiness of this place is astounding.

Sculpted mammals that graze.

Golden calves they praise! ²

I shake my head. My spine tingles.

I’m in deep.

I am deep inside this great and spacious building.³

I see the masses move in one accord.

Mingling.

Jingling.

Tinkling.⁴

Tingling.

I speak with others occasionally. But mostly, I look, I listen, and I imitate.

Competing.

Complying.

Copying.

Coping.

Fitting in.

When we converse, it is competitive and comparative to the point of conflict. We talk of sport. We talk of style. We talk of plans, pathways, and patterns.

The right look.

Portfolio.

Prestige.

Position.

Power.

Pomp.

The advantage.

The hierarchy.

The ladder.

The culture here is always pursuing just a little bit more for the sake of more.

It is constant.

It is unrelenting.

It is consuming.

I see myself in the window’s reflection. I see a burden on the shoulders of the man in the mirror. I exhale in exasperation to express exhaustion as I fully feel this experience. I feel an inextinguishable exigency to exhibit what I have earned. I feel the weight of