Gutter Ball

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This may be one of the most honest essays I have ever written. Someone I respect very much warned me against creating a false self with which to receive praise about my writing. He acted like a cautery to a wound I didn’t know I had. There is no place in which we may rest upon the journey, especially our laurels.

I have seen myself grow discouraged about my books not selling and people seldom contributing to my website. The opposite side of this is that I do get my ego stroked when people say I help them. What to do but throw myself into a hotter part of the fire?

The bitter jewels must be eaten. The cross must be carried. The ego must see itself from both sides. There is indeed nothing to gain or lose.

What I need to do is go deeper, ever deeper into the mire of thought. Thought of praise choking out the sweet fruit of the Master’s vine. Thought of failure doing the same thing.

This world is a holding pen and a kindergarten for wayward souls. If we get juice and cookies and a nap, we are lucky. I don’t know about you, but my ego is insatiable. It wants to Supersize itself. It, like a giant piece of modeling clay, wants to eat up all of the smaller pieces so it can grow bigger.

Now the ego needs fat pants.

Who wants to go bowling instead of reading my “brilliant” words? Ugly shoes help to break the spell and a few gutter balls can’t hurt….


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