Ego-Bean Salad

I first heard of the following account this morning, through Source. I have no way of verifying if it’s true. I’ll leave that up to you to decide:

***

Once upon a time, there was a quaint little village named Eedon; which was named after A. & E. Eedon, who were the first couple to settle there in 1802. Nestled in a picturesque valley, the village consisted of seven-hundred kind souls. There was peace in the valley because everyone showed compassion to their neighbours and were generous of spirit. No one knew anything about bragging, boasting, and pride; in fact, they’d never heard of such behaviour. When a family was experiencing a challenging time, all of the neighbours got together and humbly pitched in to offer help. They built homes and barns together; helped educate one another’s children; tilled the soil and harvested crops together. All of the residents knew that they could count on one another. Until…

One day, at a town hall meeting, the Mayor, Mr. I-Come-Up-With-Bad-Ideas, suggested that they should hold a celebration in the center of town. They would have a feast. Everyone would contribute an ingredient from his or her pantry.

“What will we have for the meal?” asked Gwendolyn, one of the oldest residents in town. “Pork? Ribs? Potato salad?

Another man, Jed (who incidentally, barely kept his family fed) said, “No, let’s have fish. We have plenty of fish in the Eedone River, especially at this time of year.”

The polite discussion continued until the mayor proposed that they should have a special dish: Ego-Bean Salad. “Why, everyone’s got some degree of ego,” he said. “That way everyone can contribute to the meal. We’ll set up the cauldron in the town square, people will throw in their stash of ego-beans, give the mix a stir, and then step aside and make way for the next person. After the salad marinates for several hours, we’ll dine like royalty.

Although a few of the seniors doubted the wisdom of the planned menu, the mayor’s proposal was seconded by the deputy mayor, and the vote carried. A date was set.

On the day of the celebration all went well initially. People brought their families and musical instruments, and there was great merriment. The menu went over gangbusters, too. Bowl after bowl of Ego-Bean Salad was consumed. “More, please, more,” was the common remark as people lined up for seconds, even thirds. It’s rumoured that Jed consumed eight servings.

As dusk fell, a man known as Sparky casually sauntered into town. He almost always had a half-finished cigarette dangling from his lips. As he approached the town center, a flash explosion was suddenly set off. From miles away, people assumed it was a dazzling display of the northern lights. The first explosion was followed by several others and aftershocks that shattered windows in neighbouring towns. The cauldron still hasn’t been found.

***

And the moral of this tale? Why, this is just a little story about the hazards related to eating too much salad, right? It has nothing to do with letting our ego be in charge of our life. (If you’re earnestly eager to recognize your true Self, my YouTube video entitled “I Am: The Infinite” will be helpful.)

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

P.S. Please share this article if you enjoyed it. If you’d like to view my latest book (This Taste of Flesh and Bones), press here. My YouTube videos can be found at Think2wice@I-Am-Aware. May the content of either or both help you along your spiritual journey. “Thank You” & “Note to Publishers” 🙏🏻🧡

The Strangest Dream

It was Celine’s weekend off work, so she was still dressed in her nightgown and robe when she meandered into the kitchen. Her long blond hair was tousled from the previous night’s sleep. As she reached for a mug from the cupboard, she said, “I think I’m going to need two cups of java this morning!”

“That tired?” asked her husband, Frank.

“No, it’s not that,” said Celine. “I just want an extra jolt of caffeine to get over a troubling dream that I had last night. It was so strange.”

“How was it strange?” said Frank.

After pouring her coffee and adding milk, Celine walked to the kitchen table and sat down across from Frank. “It’s kind of difficult to put into words,” she began, “but in the dream it felt as though my very being had been taken over by a strange, almost alien, force.

“That does sound weird,” said Frank.

“This thing–whatever it was–assumed complete control over me. I felt so constricted and bound. During the dream, I was forced to accept a name that I didn’t want–Neaera, whatever that means; and I had to believe that I could be defined by whatever thoughts entered my mind, especially negative ones. If I heard words such as dumb, ugly, or loser, I had to accept them as personal traits. I think I rarely, if ever, heard a positive word.

“Initially, I was resistant to such rules; but as the dream progressed, my spirit became beaten down and I willingly accepted them. I began to speak negatively about myself, and I lived in almost perpetual fear of what persons thought of me. I never felt at peace, and I was defensive most of the time. When situations didn’t meet my expectations, I often became resentful, and sometimes even enraged. Get this, I actually even hated some people!” At the thought of her last words, Celine felt a tremor shake through her body.

“Whew,” said Frank, as he reached to touch Celine’s hand, “well, at least the dream is over now.”

“Yes,” said Celine, “thank God. Now, I can go back to being who I Am. Get you another cup of coffee, Honey?”

***

Dear Readers: Does the term “ego” ring a bell? Are you living from the center (and power) of your essential nature, or merely existing by the so-called standards of your ego? There’s a deeper dimension of YOU; and It’s divine.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Evil Overheard

One day, Michael Angelo (no relation) felt the call of nature and entered the men’s bathroom at his local shopping mall. The bathroom appeared empty as he quietly stepped into a stall. He was lowering his trousers, when he realized that someone, indeed, was occupying the second stall to his left. As Michael sat upon his throne, pondering the big questions of life (What am I doing this Friday night? I wonder who will win the playoffs? Did humankind really land on the moon?), he heard a gruff voice from the stall begin to speak, as though dictating a memo to a secretary:

***

“This message has got to get out to our agents as soon as possible,” began the voice in a hushed tone. “The public are beginning to awaken to their essential nature and attempting to gain the upper hand. That’s not going to happen–not under my reign. We’ve got to use all of our resources. Humans are highly susceptible to fear, and ignorant of their own latent abilities; we’re going to use that to our advantage. Release as many fearful stories as possible, regarding every type of event far and wide. Ensure that the incidents appear real, and back them up with video clips of officials reporting on scene. Flood the public with images and stories of hatred, racism, and violence–via print media, television, radio, and mobile devices–with a subtlety that won’t be noticed. Use subliminal messages when you’re certain that they won’t be detected. If anyone hassles you, get back to me and I’ll take care of the matter. Bribe anyone willing to take the money; and if that doesn’t work, use blackmail. Beyond that, hire violence; but ensure that any deaths appear accidental. It’s important that any hint of resistance is squashed immediately.”

***

And just as quickly as the voice had begun speaking, it abruptly stopped. As Michael listened quietly, with the back of his neck becoming clammy, he suddenly smelled a foul odour emanating from the stall to his left. The stench seemed the perfect punctuation to the end of the evil message. When he heard the stall door rasp open, he silently lifted his feet off the floor so that his presence wouldn’t be noticed.

Michael assumed that the character must have been the devil–what else could be that menacing and evil? Unbeknownst to him, the unidentified figure appeared much like you or me. Just for the record, he didn’t wash his hands.

Dare to dream (and care for one another).

With heartfelt regards,

Art

Think2wice

CONSCIOUSNESS, SPIRITUALITY, & LAW OF ATTRACTION

Tag: False Self

Ego-Bean Salad

The Strangest Dream

Evil Overheard

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