A story is told of a boy who was born as a god in the land of the gods. But immediately after he was born, he was kidnapped by humans.
The humans took him far away to their land and taught him the ways of men. They taught him to eat cabbage instead of nectar, to speak english instead of speaking in tongues. They taught him to walk instead of gliding, to fight with a stick instead of a thunderbolt. He grew up knowing that he was human, oblivious of his godhood.
Well, long story short, He lived the lowly life of humans and died.
When we say “I”, who is the I we are talking about?
When we say I like this and hate that, who is it that likes and hates?
When we say myself, which self are we talking about?
When we look in the mirror, who do we see?
When we put on clothes, who do we dress up?
When we speak, who is it that speaks?
When we get angry, who is it that gets angry?
When we laugh, who is it that laughs?
A human being is born wild and free. But sooner rather than later, he goes to school and picks up a little bit of compliance. He goes to church and picks a little bit of obedience. From society he picks a lot of conformity and from social media, plenty of garbage.
He ends up being a little bit of this and a little bit of that. A concoction of sorts.
So, he walks around like those torn shorts that we used to wear when we were kids. Patched with so many virakas from different pieces of cloth, one does not know its original color.
We live and die, never knowing who we truly are.
Life is life
Fabio