He has become even more insignificant to me, like swatting away a gnat.

 At times in my minds eye I see him looking jaded and discontent, balding and fattying and I believe getting shorter, with his libido all stuck in a narcissistic void and his family leaning toward devoting themselves to their families and husbands for goodness sake!

 while his mistress clings desperately to her youthfulness and calculates how much it will cost for a face lift and whether she can schedule it between events successfully.

 His wife passes him in the supermarket aisle as they simultaneously cruise the vino section, wearing dark glasses and an even darker smile. His only preoccupation is keeping his thoughts in line with his divine status and conjuring stories for his devotees that excuse him without exposing him.

Every now and again I catch a glimpse of his sordid artificial american flavoured, concrete coloured life and I take pity. Then I swat the gnat away.

I am presently wrapped up in a journey of linguistics in my head... that's a whole other thesis waiting to be born. Delving into the depths of meaning and no meaning and the miracle of language and comprehension along with cultural intentional mind-wash and the propaganda machine. I believe we have more power and influence in the world than we give ourselves credit for, starting with our words. They're often ill considered and reactionary, hopelessly dumbed down and evasive. If only we understood our individual importance to the flowering of the world, by being who we truly are.

It doesn't matter so much now that I had a diversion on the path in the form of a snake oil salesman. Perfection is a direction not a destination. It's not so much about judgement as discernment... Rawat took advantage of the part of me that judged myself a lot, self doubting, my discernment on hold for the time being while I sifted 10 million impressions of what I was not.

It's nice to feel insight and intuition growing now and not getting stuck in the mud admiring a plastic lotus.  You know that feeling when you're stuck in the mud flats with your wellington boots on and the only way out is to leave them behind and let the tide take them?If When I look back it feels like that, I lost my boots but I don't care. I'm safe on dry land. Some things are way beyond control but it turns out I can decide to just be ok or even maybe to have fun, anyway

When life kicks you down the road, kick back