Sweet madness, luscious cerebral nectar of divinity.
Isn’t madness nothing more than simply seeing and accepting the illusion we call reality as illusion? An illusion which is just a trick played upon the mind by the senses. Senses, which we formed as part of a game we created for the playing of life. A game called Life, which is an interesting hodgepodge of board game, scripted stage play and improv; rewritten, painted and acted out, fresh each moment, where moments are strung together like a pearl necklace, flowing into and out of our being with each breath. And with each breath, worlds come and go; strung together with remnants of who thought we are.
Consider the possibility that we are not contained in space and time, but just reading it a page at time like a book; and “we” are the ones holding the book and can choose to cast our vision to any place on the page we choose and can choose to be at any page.
We identify too much with place and time. We let it define who we are.
So what of madness? It has been said that, “those whom the gods wish to destroy they first make mad.” What would anger a “god” so much that they would want or take the time to destroy a lowly human? Is it out of jealousy? Did not the God of Jews declare he was a jealous god. But, was he really honest as to why he was jealous and of what? Was it other gods, goddesses or something else and why would any of them wish someone mad and destroyed? Consider that the source of this anger and jealousy was because they knew that we are the potential to be, and are, the unspeakable which whispered “them” into existence; and have simply forgotten who “we” are, and they fear our remembering. So who should be worshiping who?
Such is the nature of madness; turning everything inside out, over and over again. Like washing an ice cube in hot water to make it cleaner and purer, until soon nothing is left. Nothing, no duality, no right, no wrong, no separateness, no oneness, nothing; sadness and joy swirled into blissful unspeakableness.
A smile, without a face.