Reluctant Reinvention

I had to tell him, “Yes, I am a holy man. These are sacred accoutrements of my calling.”

Mr. Security queried, “What makes you think your hat and twenty pounds of incense are sacred? How will that stuff keep you safe on an international flight?”

“Good questions, Sir. The hat wards off evil spirits from above and warns them that any attack on me will result in their complete annihilation. The incense flows to heaven and alerts the gods that I am near and ready for their communication and blessings.

“All this incense is like shouting to the heavens. I need to ensure they hear me. It’s the same as you trying to call your comrades from across the tarmac; you must yell for them to hear you over all the airport noise.”

Mr. Security was insistent, “You can’t take the incense onto the plane in a carry-on. It will cause irritation and maybe even allergic reactions from other passengers. You can check it in or leave it here. I don’t care which.

“As far as the hat goes, that won’t fit in our overhead compartments, nor will it fit in your economy seat. It’s too big! It, too, must be checked in or left here.”

My turban-esque hat is gorgeous in new-grass-green silk with gold thread woven throughout. It is the minimum size appropriate for someone of my stature in holy-dom, three times the diameter of my head. My neck muscles have grown proportionately as my holiness has increased.

So, here we are with twenty pounds of jasmine incense in my carry-on and my official hat snugged to my head trying to board the plane to get me back home to advance my calling as a holy man.

“If you’re such a holy man, you would understand and support why I cannot allow a nuisance and an unnecessary burden for our other passengers and our crew. You either check these objects in or abandon them here,” Mr. Security insisted.

“I’m not that kind of holy man. Other people’s reactions to my presence or behavior cannot influence me. They must all accommodate me and my holy ways. If they do not, dire consequences could result.”

“Sir, are you threatening the safety of our passengers, crew and aircraft? This is very serious and will result in you not travelling today and being detained by our authorities,” Mr. Security continued.

“No, Sir, I am not threatening anyone. I am merely trying to explain the importance of me being allowed to do as I choose.

“If I violate the edicts of the gods, I will be held in contempt of their will. Imagine telling your God, ‘No, I don’t want to follow your commandments.’ You would suffer retribution for your flagrant disregard of your orders from On High. You are merely a mortal doing mortal things.

“Imagine the jeopardy I put myself into doing as you instruct when I know it is in direct conflict with the ruling from my gods. How can I live with that? I can’t.

“I bet that if I deliberately contradicted the commands of my gods to satisfy your mortal demands, I would be reduced to something less than I am or want to be. And, if that was the case, what would be the consequences for you who imposed your mortal demands onto me? The consequences for the airport authority who commands you? Of the government regulators who direct your activities?

“You see; by obeying your commands, I risk damning all of you to fates worth than death. I don’t know what those fates would be, but I assure you, they would be worse than death.”

“I have heard that cliché many times and it makes no sense, you charlatan, you,” sneered Mr. Security. What does that mean, ‘…a fate worse than death?’”

Being as holy as I am, I was able to explain to this poor ignorant soul, “A fate worse than death, you ask? How about this; an awareness of your own insanity? Or, what about an existence wherein you know you are reduced to a shadow of your former self? Maybe immortality in a mortal body damned to age with no death available for relief?

“Those all strike me as worse than death.

“You bring any of these onto yourself and those around you by demanding that I shuck myself of my hat and my paltry amount of incense. I won’t allow it. I insist that I be allowed to travel with my hat and my incense.”

Mr. Security retorted, “You’re nuts. You’re a caricature of holiness developed by a fool to mock all that is holy. Your arguments border on hysteria as if to prove a point that’s invalid on any planet or in any temple of true righteousness.”

I awakened and sat up in a mild panic.

On the WhatsApp call with my teacher an hour later, I lamented, “Teacher, it was a horrible dream. I’m confused. I am not what I call holy. My senses tell me that realms exist into which I have no entrance nor welcome. I am lost and hopeless in my search to be holy.”

“Child, you see holiness as a condition. That’s incorrect. Holiness is a verb. It is action combined with intent to do what is beneficial for others and yourself. You recognize the inanity of what many call holy. That is evident in your dream. The appearances of holiness, those external trappings, are many and oftentimes misleading.

“Wearing a certain hat, making certain offerings, reciting programmed prayers, walking a prescribed way, none of it matters in the overall scheme of reality. Even miracles done in self-deification are nothing more than parlor tricks that disrupt the universe.

“Truly holy ones may not appear holy to anyone other than God. God may or may not explain to you that you meet the celestial demands of holy-ness. It doesn’t matter. What we see is not what God sees.

“You are acknowledged as a holy one by many who know what holy looks and acts like. It doesn’t matter if you believe it or not. What is real is real no matter what we believe. Your transition from what you were to what you are becoming is as it should be. You cannot rush it nor delay it.

“I see you as one who is driving toward acceptance of a path that will lead to miracles that bless others. Honor the One who blesses you. Honor those whom you bless. Set your ego aside.”

“Teacher, part of me doesn’t want to be a holy man. There are too many expectations of one who’s holy. Daily, constantly, do what’s right for the right reasons. Be a steady blessing for all, even those I would rather choke.”

“As it is said, my child, ‘Tough cookies.’”