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The Path of Enlightenment

The Road to Wisdom and Enlightenment is a difficult one. As soon as you are on your way under bright, cheerful skies and whispering trees swaying in a fragrant breeze with chirping birds you suddenly step into the:

Mud Puddle of Surprise. Life is full of expectations. Good and bad. If you expect the best, good things tend to happen. If you expect the worst, bad things may befall you. But no one expects the big, juicy Mud Puddle of Surprise and that sucking sound as you extract your heavy sodden sneakered foot, no, as you extract your sodden sneaker sans foot from the muck and wriggle it back onto your muddy sock.

As you squish onward you think about the lesson learned which is, be all aware, up and down and around and around. But you find you are still a novice on the Path of Enlightenment when you stub your toe on the:

Boulder of Pain and Suffering. And it’s not even your muddy toe but the other pristine one. As you hobble along squishy on one side and throbbing on the other the meaning escapes you unless it’s only to doubly remind you to be attentive and aware or to always, always wear steel toed boots. In any event it’s hard to imagine you would have overlooked the:

Bowling Alley of Anguish and Despair where you learn the important lesson of keeping control of your balls lest you drunkenly toss one into the adjacent lane where she looks at you and you look at her and forty minutes later the two of you are knocking it off in the backseat of your father’s 1973 Buick Park Avenue which proves to be a serious but temporary setback to continuing back into the Bramble Patch to Enlightenment where you will encounter:

The Defecating Bird of Paradise who teaches you that what can shit on your head will shit on your head as if you hadn’t learned this lesson already from your ex-wife and former employers and fickle friends and relatives and strangers, well, fucking everybody you have and will encounter on the Gauntlet of Enlightenment until it culminates in something like:

The Creamy Whip Ice Cream Cone of Near Disaster wherein while taking home a cop’s wife with whom you have had, uh, interesting relations, unbeknownst to said officer of the law… well, taking her out for a treat after a previous and far more profound treat and find yourself with a service revolver to your temple and very, very specific instructions regarding your future if indeed you have one which was under debate at the moment.

The common thread is that it is all too easy to become distracted from your search for beauty, truth and wisdom by women and money and shiny objects and find yourself on lesser trails which can lead you to such places as the Corporate Cubicle of Absurdity which lies in a maze where the beginning is also the end.

This has been an abbreviated tour on the Obstacle Course of Enlightenment. We haven’t touched upon the Tombstone of Illicit though Stimulating Opportunity with its Perfect Elevation Relative to your Height and reminds you that while you are striving to be mindful and  aware try also not to be excessively aware of the wrong things and neglect the goal of leading a moral life which requires not diddling the neighbors cute, little wife.

Unless she demands it. Vehemently!

The Circuitous Detour of Enlightenment has yet to reveal its true purpose and destination and you can only hope that it doesn’t turn into the Interstate of Ignorance where at every exit there is a Waffle House or a Cracker Barrel.


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