CAVE OF THE CHRISTIAN CONSCIOUSNESS

I stand in the sunshine, warm on my head, in my dream of a life, and peer into the cave of pre-historic, creature darkness from the ages before the human animal commenced. Far in, I hear voices, screams, the sound of creatures in fear and pain. Could this be Plato’s Cave, I think.

So I call in softly, “Hey, come out, you guys. Come on out! Come on!”

I listen. I hear barks, yaps. They’re afraid to come out! I think I hear them crow they’re comfortable in there with familiar 2000 year old rituals whereas out here all's new and all promise with a little courage to let go of old nightmares. Out here, a rock’s a rock, a life’s a life and things keep changing.

I creep to the very edge of their cave and make one more attempt. “Look! None of the demons in there with you are out here in the sun. They’re all in your head. Come on out. There’s nothing to fear out here in this fine and pleasant dream.”

But nothing happens. They remain in their Platonic cave nightmare with the blood and pain and fear of their crucified one clutched tightly to their chests, hoping for the end times, hoping to die soon, as quickly as they can.

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"If I had to live my life again, I'd make the same mistakes, only sooner."
—Tallulah Bankhead