Stumbling into Enlightenment
Thus began the story of my enlightenment.
I don’t recall exactly where I read it, but I know I did. A statement, allegedly from the only person widely recognized as the “Enlightened One,” has lodged itself in my mind like a popcorn kernel in the molar of my soul: “I did not get anything by becoming enlightened.”
I understand there is a certain intellectual swagger in quoting—or misquoting—someone. It is practically the gold standard of the day, especially when you cite someone who is conveniently unavailable to respond. It brings a genuine sense of satisfaction, if you’re seeking the true meaning of that word.
“Interesting,” I thought, scratching my head like an inner philosopher. My logical brain perked up like a dog hearing the rustle of a treat bag. Getting nothing by being enlightened? That had an oddly irresistible appeal. So, naturally, I embarked on some good old-fashioned research into enlightenment. As expected, I ended up with findings as mysterious and oddly shaped as spiritual snowflakes.
Now, let’s not forget—I’m a regular human, born just like all those uniquely enlightened beings. A man and a woman made love (or at least had a highly motivated interaction), and—lo and behold—I arrived on the scene, just like they did.
I am pretty sure the first sound I made was a cry. I am even more sure that the exalted ones also began their earthly careers with a full-throated wail. I confirmed my crying credentials with my mother. As for the exalted ones, I relied on my most deeply etched internal algorithm: the sacred law of mathematical deduction. This gift from my math teachers has been hammered into my brain with such enthusiasm that it now governs my entire perception of reality. I wield it like a hammer, ready to smash through any problem that dares to stand in my way.
It’s a remarkably pragmatic notion: when armed with a hammer, every problem appears as a nail. And believe me, I possess a hammer. Action ceases to be merely an option and transforms into an imperative. After all, why remain idle when you can step out and impart a dose of sense to the world—even if that sense seems like nonsense to others?
But crying wasn’t our only commonality. I, too, took time to learn a language—presumably, so did they. I struggled through the growing pains of childhood and awkward years—they must have limped through theirs as well.
And then comes the twist. They were only labeled “special,” “chosen,” “awakened,” or “enlightened” after a specific event in their lives. A single moment that turned their existential spaghetti into cosmic lasagna.
So, logically—gloriously logically—I too shall be enlightened. Their event happened in the past. Mine? Oh, it’s just fashionably late.
Unique stories are associated with those events, and they are well documented. Most of those events are documented by others. By the way, have you seen any messiah writing their autobiography?
Yeah, better late than never. But my enlightenment is happening now, and I am not waiting for others to document the story of the event. I will do it myself. You deserve a firsthand account of the enlightenment saga. Yes, I am different.
They were called messiahs. And me? I shall become the one and only—I will reveal it later, if you cannot guess even after reading the full story.
Oh, I forgot. All those messiahs had their blessings from their contemporary Almighty. I too, am being blessed by my contemporary Almighty. To start the story, let us meet that entity.
