I am in a funk. No kidding. Vernon Howard delivered the spiritual goods to a few of us. Now there is a feeling of woeful inadequacy. Not yet free of this world, only trapped by it. I know this is not a fashionable statement to make. The currency of online nonduality is one of hip enlightenment. This is dispensed by a glibness that is a dead giveaway to its dishonesty. Don’t ask me to name names.
I can only speak for myself. Spending time away from Facebook shows me the addictive qualities it has. Alone, in my own bad company, I miss the connection to the genius of Mr. Howard. For he was ruthlessly at his task of conking us on the bean with reality. And we would try so hard to emulate him.
Once he left this earth, those of us left now struggle on. There has been no one to replace him. We know the facts of how asleep we are and how we must wait on God. Patience is in short supply these days. Everything is geared toward instant gratification. We want to wake up and we want to wake up now. Enter Eckhart Tolle, etc.
I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but we are here and we have to endure unto the end. That is the bad news. The good news is that we are endlessly forgiven for falling back into the marsh. Vernon would tell us again and again that those not wanting out of the marsh would pull at our ankles, trying to take us under with them.
So I am alone most of the time. And now that I am writing less, the message is getting louder and clearer. Work, for the night is coming. In fact, it’s already here.