Who Is This Guy?

When I first met him I didn’t have a clue where he came from.  Although now I have a little better idea.  But the first time I met him he just showed up.  They say when the pupil is ready the teacher will appear.  For me nothing could be truer. I just happened to walk past my front door and there he was just staring into the house, startling to say the least.

“Can I help you?” I asked walking towards the door.

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he replied.

“What are you here for?” I asked.

“Let me in,” he ordered. 

So that is exactly what I did.  I opened the door and let him in.

I know that sounds like a strange thing to do.  Especially since I didn’t even have a clue who he was.  But the strange thing was something in me knew it was going to be okay to let him in.  Somehow I knew that not only should I let him in but that I needed to let him in.

Why I had that feeling is hard to describe.  I mean he didn’t look menacing or to be any threat I couldn’t handle.

He was a thin, older gentleman.  He had scraggly white hair but a well kept beard.  He wore brown pants and a white dress shirt both of which looked about two sizes too big. 

When he had asked me to let him in there was a feeling of not wanting to miss out on something.  Which I knew was going happen if I didn’t let him in.

“Really?” he said as he walked through the door into my house.

“Really what?” I questioned not knowing what he was talking about.

“You are just going to let a complete stranger into your house just because he tells you to? He doesn’t even introduce himself or tell you why he’s there.  He just says let me in and you do?”

I didn’t know what to say.  He was right.  It wasn’t too bright.  But like I said, I just knew…

“Let me ask you something?” he continued.  “When you are driving, and you look in the side view mirror of your car, does it say ‘Warning – Objects in mirror are dumber than they appear?’”

He just insulted me, I think, but I couldn’t help but smile.

Again, I asked, “Can I help you?”

“No,” he answered, “But I can help you.”

“How?” I wondered.  At this point things were way beyond confusing.

“Are you struggling?” he asked me with a look of sympathy I could now see in his face as his eyes stared straight into mine.  He just kept staring right at me.  It was awkward.

“With what?” I wasn’t sure what he was referring to.

“Man, you really did fall out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down,” he replied.

Now I was kind of starting to get a little annoyed.  I had no clue what was happening.

“I don’t understand,” I started.  “I don’t…”

“Stop using the word don’t,” he interrupted.  “Life!  Are you struggling with life?”

“Aren’t we all?”  I answered.  At least now our conversation seemed to be starting to go in some direction although I wasn’t sure where.  “I mean to some degree, we all have our daily struggles.  We all have our problems to overcome.  Some may have more or bigger problems than others.” 

“Not me,” he said.

“Not you what?”

“I don’t have any problems.”

“Now who’s being stupid?” I said.  We all know that was just not possible.  And why was I just standing here having a conversation with this guy?

“What if I said I was here to take away your struggle?” he asked.

“To be honest,” I answered, “My life hasn’t really been that bad.  I mean, compared to what I’ve seen happing to others my life has been pretty good so far.  I can’t complain, because I know so many more have had it far worse.”

“And that is why I am here for you,” he continued.

“That makes no sense,” I told him.

“It makes perfect sense.  You are ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“You are ready to see that this world is a magical place.  I am here to show you just how incredible this world can be.”

Great I thought. I just let an inspirational guru wannabe into my house.  But then again, that feeling hit me.  I was glad he was here.

“Let’s talk about your brain,” he said.  “Which as far as I can tell right now, if brains were dynamite, you wouldn’t have enough to blow your nose.”  He smiled.

I smiled again and just let him continue.

“For the most part your brain was wired when you were a child,” he said.  “You may think you have come to conclusions on your own, but your brain has been conditioned to see the world in such a way to support conclusions that were given to you by your parents and society when you were very young.  Your child hood has limited how you see the world.”

“How,” I asked a little curious.

“Your brain is bombarded with millions of bits of data every day.  To keep you from going insane your brain takes in the data that coincides with your beliefs and discards the data that does not.  You do this subconsciously.  Most of the time you are unaware.  This is why the world seems to conform to what you believe and what you believe was determined when you were a child.”

“Is that a bad thing,” I asked.

“About as bad as it gets if you don’t do something about it,” he told me.

“Do what?”

“Re-wire your brain.”

“Why would I want to re-wire my brain?” I asked.  “How do you even do that?”

“We will get to that,” he assured.  “First, understand that you don’t know anything.  Your brain is in no way capable of being able to comprehend the vastness and the complexity of the universe.”

“Can you?” I asked him.

“No way, but I understand more than most.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s not that others can’t know what I know. It’s just that they don’t think they can or they don’t try or they just don’t believe it.”


“Because they are idiots.”

That kind of raised an eyebrow.

“Now don’t get me wrong,” he continued.  “Everyone is a genius. But almost everyone does not know it.  Therefore they are dumb.  They are ignorant idiots.”

“Aren’t dumb and idiots harsh words?” I questioned.

“No.” he said.

“So you are calling me an idiot?”

“Big time.”

I graduated third in my high school class, magna cum laude in college.  I would hardly say that defines an idiot.”

“Now I know you are an idiot,” he snapped back.  “Wow, third in your class.  Wow, man cum loudly.  All that shows is you can memorize a few facts and repeat them on a piece of paper or computer screen.  Yes, you are an idiot.  But you are also a genius.”

“That makes no sense,” I objected.

“It makes perfect sense,” he said and he actually tapped me lightly on the forehead three times with his finger.

“Why are you doing that?” I responded.

“You’ll see.  You will see.”

“See what?”

“Where do you live?” he asked me.

“Now who’s being dumb,” I replied.  “Why are you asking that question?  You’re in my house.”

“No!” he practically yelled.  I almost took a step backwards.

He again tapped my head three times.

“Would you stop that?”  That time my voice rose a little.

“That is where you live.”  He actually tapped my head tree times again.  This time I did take a step backwards.

“I live in my head?”

“Yes you live in your head.”  A smile appeared on his face.  “You live in your mind. And in your mind you have created your own world.  It is a world completely different from the world of anyone else.  Everyone’s world is different.  Look out your door window.”

I walked to the door and looked out.

“Do you see the tree in your yard?” he asked.

“Of course I see the tree in my yard.”

“And so do I,” he continued. “But we do not see the same tree.”

“Of course we do,” I responded, “That’s the only tree in my yard.”

“But we don’t see it the same.  Besides looking at it from different angles.  We don’t see the same color green on the leaves.  Your green may be brighter or darker than mine, a different shade.  We are both noticing different details of the tree.  For example can you see the Benzines behind some of the leaves?”

“What’s a Benzine?”

“Of course you can’t.  Your brain has not been wired to see Benzines.”

“What’s a Benzine?” I asked again.

“What you can or cannot see was wired into your brain when you were young,” he continued completely ignoring me. “You had no control over that wiring.  Yet it has determined almost everything about who you are and what you are doing at this very moment.  And that is why you are an idiot.”

“I wish you would stop calling me an idiot,” I protested.

“Why?” he said.  “Does it bother you?”

“Kind of.”

“It shouldn’t,” he explained.  “Remember I said everyone lives in their own world inside their head.  What they say and do is a reflection of what is going on in their world, not a reflection of you.”

“So I shouldn’t worry about what you call me?”

“Of course not.  My world is just one of billions on this planet.  What should one opinion out of a billion really mean to you?”

“Nothing. I don’t guess.”

“Right.  But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t listen to and learn from the opinions of others.  Like you are doing with mine right now.  They can be very helpful at times.  But never, never take it personally.”

“I see,” I said.  And I did. That made sense.

“But know this,” he started to add.


“In my world you are a huge idiot.”

“Okay, let me ask you this,” I questioned.  “If this big idiot and because of the way my brain was wired how do I rewire it?”

“Exactly!” he said.  “Like I said earlier, you do need to rewire your brain and it is actually a very simple process.”

“Who is that?”

“Question everything.”

“Like what?”

“Did you no hear me?” he said, “I said question everything.  Don’t leave anything for granted.  Pretend you know nothing.  And in your case that is not far from the truth.  Act as if everything you believe in life is completely wrong.  And you are going to find that is actually true.  Not just for you but for everyone.  Almost everyone is getting it wrong.”

“Including you,” I asked.

“Yes including me,” he answered.

“Then why am I even listening to you?”

“Because,” he replied.  “I am not getting it nearly as wrong as you are.” 

“Do I really have it that wrong?”

“Almost everyone thinks their way of seeing the world is the correct way. Image how different this world would be if everyone just understood they don’t have a clue.  Nothing makes me madder than for a person to claim that what they believe is the ‘truth’.  For someone to use that word about their own personal beliefs and say what others believe is wrong is the height of arrogance.  The other day I happened to walk into a church by accident.”

“Oh no,” I thought.  That could not have turned out well.


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