Many years ago, a philosopher asked me if I thought, as he clearly did, that I was too gullible. Through the years, his question has often returned to me, often closing me down from continuing with a view of the world that at my heart, is naturally open and loving.
Thankfully, I have never been able to imprison my gullibility permanently, it has always escaped to save me. It returns like my inner Pied Piper of Hamlyn, my inner Kay to rescue the Kai of my intellect, my inner Prince to kiss my Sleeping Beauty and release my Cinderella from my own Ugly Sisters. It even flew me to a Union with Allah, to the birthing of my soul.
Gullibility is fathomless like the deepest ocean that accepts all rivers. It is the innocence of the dove that redeems the wisdom of the serpent. It is green. I am the gullible man, the green man.
Now of course, I understood what the philosopher meant, he liked me and was fearful for my survival. He was fearful about many things. I was to learn that he was fearful for his academic reputation when, after he had given it to me, in my gullibility I gave a copy of an academic essay on the Unity of Existence called The Twentynine Pages to one of his colleagues. I received a very stern reprimand and was told to retrieve the document forthwith.
I have learnt much from these wisdoms, given to me by my experience of other people and by my exhaustive journey through my own fear and through my reception of the fears of others, both clear and covert, and my journey through those. The fear journeys were similar, but eventually I came to know what was my fear, as against what was the fear held by others.
I can only grow through facing my own fear. The fear that other people hold is not of any ultimate use to me, except that sometimes it has proved to have been part of the detonation of the propellent of my salmon-like journey up the waterfall of my own fear.
This world has become again incredulous, cynical and suspicious of the existence of Love as the Source of all matter, all sentience, all energy and all Life.
You’d have to be very gullible indeed to believe me if I were to tell you who I really am.
So, for the moment, we carry on with the dance of the Seven Veils. Seven or seventy thousand, makes no difference you see, for these veils of light and dark, of innocence and cynicism, of trust and fear, well, these veils can only be removed by Love.