Something funny is happening as I meander toward a deeper level of what appears to be genuine emotional balance.
I have shed quite a load of credulousness, and picked up a nice sturdy shaker of salt instead.
I don’t exactly disbelieve things that I gave almost complete credence to just a few weeks ago. It’s more like I’m able to view a notion with several completely separate yet centrally connected sets of eyes.
This is no doubt a work in progress, this shifting of perception and belief. I’m still exploring it, like a snake shedding the old skin and testing out the new supple, fresh covering of its sinuous body.
I’m experiencing this process with curiosity and a surprisingly relaxed attitude.
Apparently, I don’t have a horse in this race. I am observing the horses running and the jockeys urging them on and the shifting of movement on the track, but it is immaterial to me who wins.
It doesn’t seem to matter that the things I’ve been obsessively worried about are still there.
There is apparently a depopulation agenda now being given a push with what appear to be poisonous vaccines, as I have heard. Not witnessed directly.
It still appears that massive tampering in the American presidential election has placed an imposter upon the throne of America.
Election audits are said to be in process and apparently will show that the election was fraudulent and needs to be overturned.
Or so I have heard; I don’t personally know. I neither completely believe nor disbelieve information from any source—non-mainstream or mainstream.
Unless I have a direct way of assessing validity, how can I say with absolute certainty that anything is true? Or false?
I can entertain possibilities, even conflicting ones, without being attached to their provable veracity.
The most surprising benefit of this shift has been the development of unconditional empathy for people whose viewpoints are diametrically opposed to mine.
After all, I’m sure most of the populace pays no attention to the non-mainstream sources that I consult. If I’d never come across mainstream alternatives, my view would no doubt be similar to theirs. From that standpoint, empathy is easy and natural.
With this new evenhandedness, I no longer puzzle over how people could believe, for instance, that an apparently toxic vaccine that reportedly has killed thousands will help them to stay safe.
Instead, going back to my racetrack analogy, I can imagine that they are a thoroughbred with a different color coat than mine. With a different jockey, jauntily sporting chartreuse and rust-colored silks that clash majestically with my restful deep blue and lavender raiment.
We’re both in this race. From the outside it might look like we are competing, or we look so different that we could not possibly have a common element between us—other than we both happen to be equine.
This leveling of my mental playing field, this allowance for possibilities without needing to argue their validity, demonstrates a degree of equanimity I never imagined could exist for me.
You mean, everything really is okay exactly as it is? I don’t need to try to fix or change or persuade or shout anything from the rooftops?
I can put away my bullhorn and continue wandering on my way. I’m happy to greet fellow wanderers, and equally happy to wave cheerfully to those traveling that other path, over there, even if they may never look up from the well-worn rut they follow, or wave back at fellow travelers treading an apparently divergent path.