RESISTING NINEVAH
An epilogue to the unceremonious conclusion of my time as a New Age mystic:
Just as I wrote almost a year ago, I am Jonah, running from my Nineveh. I run with the blind stupor of hopelessness, experiencing many moments when I feel either the world cannot change, I do not want it to change, or both. I often fear the world as we know it will collapse, that it cannot be any other way, and that I accept it. When it occurs, what else can be done but sit amongst the ruin - the tears of the damned beyond counting - and watch it collapse before my impotent eyes, in all of its entropic madness?
I once thought I could make a difference, once sought the journey inward to tap into union with God. I believed I could harness his love and wield it as a force for good. I meditated for years on it, and what did I uncover for all my efforts and good intentions? Suspicion and disdain.
I'm convinced that, when in meditative states, I cannot discern the source of revelations. I cannot even fathom a guess because the message is always shrouded in mystery. I cannot can tell for certain whether it's true and so cannot tell the difference between a message from God and a message from elsewhere. That's ultimately why I gave it up.
It's clear malevolent forces exist, that they can very easily be the source of rather breathtaking epiphanies, that they can effectively con a person into granting them trust, and then very carefully, very slowly turn things darker and darker, and slowly boil them to death without them even knowing or struggling. So unlike the biblical Jonah, I choose not to pray. I prefer to remain in the belly of the fish and be slowly digested in the hope that being reduced to nothing is superior to being twisted.