It has finally come to this. It is left alone for me to say that I remain unenlightened. Among the billions on the planet, it is for me to say these words. “I don’t get it.” Oprah, Dr. Phil, Anyone named Das or Dass, anyone with the word ananda, amrita or shanti….apparently they all get it. And I stand alone on this enlightened planet whining to all of the gods and goddesses. “Make me one with you.”
And they snicker and they chortle and they wheeze and they apply orthodontic appliances and teeth whiteners and they execute asanas and they whirl while they explain every sutra and suture that needs to come in and go out. And still I whine, “I don’t get it.”
And so they all try harder to ‘splain it to me” but I get dumber and dumber. Dumber than Dumber and Dumber V.
Call me unenlightened. Gimme a vanity plate that says “I am hopelessly unenlightened.” And one day, in spite of everyone’s best intentions, they will all come and sit at my feet saying, “Unenlighten me.” And I shall.
Just don’t call me, text me or pretend to love me. I can do that for myself.
Grinning in ignorance, I remain your unfaithful servant.