The moments where I reach the most for God are the moments when the Devil tries as hard as he can to get in. The Devil doesn’t need to work too hard when I am schlepping along on auto-pilot, and am more or less marching to the beat of the NWO programming. It’s only when I start trying to wake up from my circumstances and become someone better than who I am that the Devil begins to aggressively squeeze poison coated in candy into my skull.
I too often easily conflate the idea of becoming a better person in the spiritual sense of the word with improving intellectual, physical, social and ego-related parameters. All of them get mixed up, and ego usually runs off with the rest of them. It isn’t long before life reminds me of the vast difference between who I really am and who my overinflated ego thinks I am. All it takes is a few minutes spent with people who are more attractive, more personable, socially adjusted and better looking than I am–and who are the same age as me or slightly younger–and I remember that I am not even half the man my ego led me to believe that I was.
The harder part comes with the recovery following the reminder.
It’s too easy to then proceed to believe that I am not even worthy of licking the boots of the lowliest criminal–that I must be some kind of malformed primitive or subhuman. This kind of thinking leads, of course, to self destructive behavior and settling for work that is very much beneath my level of intellect and experience. People also seem to despise even more the man who puts himself in a lower place than he deserves to be. Unless his humility is 100% sincere–and even a 99% sincerely humble man will find his 1% sniffed out by others–a man’s humility is perceived to be at best a weakness worthy of contempt and at worst a ploy to get attention and sympathy to later manipulate those who would fall for it.
Fortunately, I don’t descend into the boot licker funk much anymore.
I have learned to temper the ups and downs with a much more practical and realistic outlook on life. Simply realizing that most people don’t pay that much attention to you when you make mistakes is enough to not go off into a tailspin every time I screw something up. It also helps that I take an anti-histamine every night–this drug seems to prevent me from swinging erratically into manic ups and black, bitter lows.
But, I still have this idea, and perhaps it is misguided, that I’ll be able to reach a point in my life where I don’t need drugs of any kind to regulate myself. I’d like to think that some of the mental space I’m getting to think clearly is helping me retrain my brain to develop new, good habits that will eventually override the old, bad ones.