Here’s the reason I decided to explore the path of mysticism and suffered the consequences.
My new sales and marketing campaign is exactly where I want it. I think I will reward myself with a long walk in the woods and just observe and enjoy nature. The fresh air will do me good. First, I better step outside and check the weather. My thermometer says 66 degrees. It’s sunny with a few puffy clouds drifting by. The mild breeze feels good as it caresses my hair and face. Yeah, I think I’ll do it now.
Well, I’m on my way to Eden Park. It has about 15 miles of trails and many options for changing your path. I should arrive in about 10 minutes.
Great, I’ve made. I have a canteen of water and some healthy snacks with me. It’s time to start walking. What a beautiful day.
Before I enter the woods, I come to an opening, a field of flowers displaying their rainbow colors. I see the red, orange, gold, yellow, violet and blue of spring and smell the fragrance of the flowers. Bees happily gather honey. Butterflies of every color move from flower to flower. I stop for a moment, absorbing the vibration and harmony of spring.
I move on and enter the woods enjoying the sights and sounds of nature…but that changes. Suddenly the atmosphere feels dark and foreboding. It feels like I exist in a haze of illusion. For a moment, I feel uneasy because nothing seems real. I stop for a moment and look between the leaves and branches of a tree. I wonder what’s real…the attributes of the tree or the spaces between the leaves and branches. Maybe trees of a forest are just obstacles to higher awareness. I wonder why I’m having those kinds of thought.
I force myself to move on…even though I’m dazed. I come to a fork on the path. Much to my surprise the path to the left has these words on a wooden board attached to a wooden post…Mysticism. The one the right says…Individualism. It occurs to me that I can choose the Path of Mysticism. I can obtain first-hand knowledge and explode that nonsense for once and for all.
The Path to a World of Mysticism
Everything is so dark I can hardly find my way. However, something keeps me pushing me forward. Finally, I come to a clearing that seems rather barren. I keep moving along. What’s strange is that I feel like something watches my every move. It must be the eye in the sky since it penetrates my very being. I think it comes from the face of God.
I arrive at a meadow of various flowers displaying a vivid, almost unbearable color. The bees seem to just languish on them. Even worse the perfume in the air almost gives me a sick, noxious feeling. Could it be the smell of death? Maybe it’s just my individuality fading away and expiring.
Up ahead sits a funeral home. I walk towards it. Suddenly, I am possessed with an uncontrollable urge to enter. I open the wooden door and see some non-descript men and women surrounding a white coffin. You would expect them to be in mourning…but instead they celebrate. I ask a woman with bleached blond hair and a pale complexion what the celebration is about. She turns around, gives me a vacuous look and tells me it’s all about the death of an ego. I ask “Whose ego passed away?” She says “Why it’s your ego that died my dear…congratulations.” Then she starts giggling. I look in the coffin and see a shriveled brain labelled RA Meyer’s ego. I can hardly believe it.
Dewey and Doark
I walk outside stunned…although I feel much lighter. Standing in front of me is a man who seems familiar. He turns around and introduces himself as Ellsworth Dewey. I ask “Aren’t you from Ayn Rand’s book “The Fountainhead.” He says “Yes I’m the hero who does everything possible to stop the selfish intentions of Howard Doark.
I think on that a moment and something occurs to me. “Mr. Dewey isn’t his last name Roark. Dewey says “If you knew the real story you would know why his last name is Doark. Oh well, I might as well tell it to you.
Doark planned to destroy one of the finest specimens of architecture ever built…the Cortland Housing Project for Incapacitated Thinkers. Fortunately his on and off girlfriend Dominique Cancon betrayed him and reported the plot directly to me. We kidnapped him and tied him up in the building where he planted the explosives. The explosion that never happened killed his evil ego…and he became enlightened. Of course, we didn’t arrest him for murder since it was an obvious case of self-defense.
Now he happily works for Peter “the Great” Keating…a selfless genius of second-handed architecture. He specializes in combining Greek sculptures and gargoyles with buildings that resemble Indian teepees.
Doark’s original sin was that his ego made him believe he could live for his own sake…instead of serving his fellow men and women. He even believed altruism and mysticism was evil. Fortunately his new found selflessness makes him a real human being.
Mr. Dewey, although what you tell me makes sense, I don’t feel any satisfaction in that.
Great, it means your ego is deader than a doornail. Isn’t that wonderful? Aren’t you glad you took the path of mysticism? By the way you can call me Ellsworth.
Ok Ellsworth. Does that mean I’m still RA Meyer?
Well, we have to call you something even though you’re nothing.
You know Ellsworth, I’m still somewhat bewildered.
Don’t worry RA. If you have trouble adjusting to our glorious collectivist society, I will get you the best help possible. First I’m sure Sigmund Fraud will help you make the transition to selflessness in case you feel some emptiness from the death of that nasty ego.
Ellsworth, isn’t selflessness and emptiness related?
RA, you’re still confused which is understandable. Your ego had you all wrapped up in selfishness and conceptual reasoning. Let me put it to you straight. Selflessness guarantees a full life of self-sacrifice.
Why is his last name Fraud? Doesn’t that have to do with dishonesty?
Yes, he exposes the dishonesty of individualism. It is said that he has a 100% success rate.
After that, you will visit with BS Thinner. He will help you assimilate into the Hive Mind Mentality.
Mr. Dewey, I thought he was involved with rats.
I said you can call me Ellsworth. Anyway, people couldn’t identify with rats but they love the harmony of the Hive.
You know Ellsworth, that makes sense. The birds and the bees and calling your sweetheart honey.
Now you’re getting it RA. You’ll find out you can love anybody. Everybody’s the same. One value is as good as another.
I guess that means we can enjoy everything equally. You know that makes it easier to share. If you lose something, it doesn’t mean that much.
Yes RA, a loss is actually a gain. Now, you can see how marvelous and easy sacrifice is. For now, keep repeating this phrase. “Reality is mysticism. Mysticism is reality. I now accept non-existence, non-identity and non-consciousness.” You must internalize these.
Ellsworth, If I am selfless, how can I internalize anything?
RA, that’s a good question. You must become one with nothingness to know the answer
Also, I’m wondering…if I’m selfless how can anyone see me?
Excellent…Now you know how unimportant you were as an individual. You now belong to the Hive. Ellsworth Dewey walks off vanishing in a haze.
I come to a railroad station. It appears the trains aren’t running. I see a horse and buggy in front of a small, dilapidated café next to the station. Since I feel rather empty, I figure some food and drink might help.
I walk into a dark, gloomy scene. There doesn’t appear to be anyone to wait on me. However, I spot a lone figure sitting in a booth. I walk over and say hi. He invites me sit down. He seems beaten down…a shell of a man. I introduce myself. He says “We are Jonathan Fault.
I ask “What do you mean we?
He says “Eventually, you will no longer identify with I. You will realize you’re a selfless nothing. Individualism and reason are illusions. The mysticism of selflessness fills you up with nothingness. The Hive Mind Mentality is all that matters…and you will thank God it’s that way.
Jonathan, aren’t you the guy who invented some motor?
Heck, that’s just something I pulled out of the ether…the combined thoughts of the collective unconscious.
All of a sudden, a flickering light distracts me. I look over and vaguely see a bar. Behind it is a bartender who looks more like a cadaver than a human being. Then I hear Jonathan yell out “Bartender another shot of Jack.”
I see you’re drinking Jack Daniels. How many of those have you had?
Oh, about a dozen. You want one.
No, not yet. Doesn’t that effect your mind?
Ha, you’re funny. We don’t have a mind to obliterate. However, it does feel good giving the Hive the haze of non-illusion. I’m surprised you don’t feel all the shots I’ve downed. Maybe it’s because you haven’t been completely assimilated.
You know, I seem to remember you as John Galt. Didn’t you say something about living for your own sake?
God, what heresy. I repented and surrendered my ego. Good riddance. Bartender another shot of Jack.
How come the jukebox keeps playing the same song over and over.
Oh, that’s the smash hit by the group the New Altruists. The song’s titled “We’d Like to Teach the World to Sing in Perfect Harmony.”
It does have a nice melody. Jonathan, why are you crying?
The song really moves me. Plus, these are tears of the joy of selflessness…of the thrill of mysticism. Hey, don’t you think it’s about time you dissolved into nothingness?
Can I ask you…I mean we another question before I disappear?
Yeah, all answers reside in the Akashic records.
Where? I guess we will figure it out. Anyway, have you seen Dagny around?
She’s so selfish, she won’t even associate with we. She’s taken up with that greedy, capitalistic jerk Hank Reardon. They hang around some place called Reardon’s Reality Resort. They probably babble on about Objectivist Ethics while they make love. Bartender, another shot of Jack.
Jonathan, I better move along. I’ll see you around.
As I walk out the door, I hear him mouthing off, slurring his words…about how Dagny is one selfish bitch.
The Return Trip
Too bad the trains aren’t running. I will take a stroll in the woods and become one with a tree or an earthworm. That would be a good introduction to my life of mysticism. How wonderful. I’m beginning to feel the meaninglessness of it all.
Damn, the woods seem rather foreboding. Oh well, since I’m selfless it won’t matter. Nothing can hurt me. I feel the eye in the sky watching me again. Now I realize that’s just the collective unconscious I’m part of. I’m safe. It’s kind of nice not having to worry about self-preservation. I wonder if we can find some magic mushrooms that will help me realize I’m nothing but a thought form. Maybe that’s why we’re all selfless. We just have to realize it. It’s time for we to move along.
The further we move down the path, the darker and more eerie it becomes. It’s like we’re blind. Maybe blindness is seeing. I hear all these voices crying for we to turn around before it’s too late. Sadly, we can no longer determine which is forward or which is backward. We’re getting dizzy because everything’s starting to spin. Oh my god, we’re getting sucked into a tunnel. We briefly see a neon sign that says “Individualism This Way.” We might as well not resist it. We don’t have an ego that would cause us to fall for that selfish nonsense. So, we will just drift along.
We can’t believe it. That’s an ego confronting us. Oh well, there’s nothing for it to penetrate. It will pass right through us. Oh no, what’s happening. We’re starting feel solid.
Back Home Again
I am existence, identity and consciousness and I feel the power of a reasoning mind. I am capable of experiencing the joy of my existence. It’s wonderful being me once again. Why anyone would want to renounce their individuality, is beyond me. Those altruists who try to get you to do that advocate an evil anti-life agenda.
It’s good to be back home again, existing in a world of reality. I must warn you. If you think you can play around with mysticism, you’re only fooling yourself.
RA Meyer – The Objectivist Masters the Social Maze