Pitching The Pitchfork
BEATING ME AT MY OWN GAME
Besides letting me take the pain for you, which ultimately weakens my power over you, the next best way to beat me is to starve me. I begin to waste away the moment you become a conscious being who is aware of your actions. You deprive me when you stop being negative; it’s your negativity that gives me my energy. And I have to tell you—your selfishness, anger, and jealousy always hit my sweet spot. Take those away from me and malnourishment is guaranteed to follow.
This notion of your feeding me all my power is not a new one. There have been clues throughout history as to how to beat me, but no one has paid much mind to them. The ancient language of Aramaic offered up one of the first clues. In Aramaic, the word for transgression actually means “transferring.” What do you think is being transferred? The answer: The ultimate food, the ultimate life-sustainer—the Light of the Creator.
And to where is it being transferred? To the dimension where I live.
Yes, I live off Light, just like you.
When the Creator allowed me to roam your dimension, he gave me a limited amount of Light so that I would have just enough power to do my job. The system he put in place feeds me just enough to sustain me—no more, no less. It’s not enough to empower me to do major damage.
So where do world wars, global famine, acts of murder, tsunamis, and child abuse come from? From the power you give me! You feed me every time you transgress; you send Light right to where I live. And it gets to me a hell of a lot faster than UPS could send it!
As you will see in the upcoming chapter, the world is created with Ten Dimensions. The nine Upper Dimensions are where God lives and the Tenth Dimension is where you live. But there is a secret Dimension that very few know about. This special place is reserved just for me and it’s known as the Eleventh Dimension.
Every time you act selfishly, every time you withhold your love, every time you fail to see God, you send Light to me in the Eleventh Dimension.
DEVIL’S FOOD CAKE
So, let me make this absolutely clear. Each time you protect me, every time you listen to me, each time you deny that I exist, I seize more power from you. Gratification is my appetizer. Indulgence is my entree. Vanity is my dessert. Denial is my life-force. I coerce you into feeding me all the time. You allow me pleasure every day of the week. You gratify me on the hour. You indulge me every minute. And your cynicism is largely to blame.
All the while, you grow weaker. You darken your life a little more with every egocentric reaction. Then you wonder why chaos and darkness suddenly strike you down.
CRUMBS ON THE FLOOR
You do a good deed. The praise arrives on your doorstep, and you soak it up. Bad move on your part, allowing your ego to be stroked. That’s another happy meal for me.
You create something. Maybe you write a book, build a business, invent something, develop a piece of technology, bake a batch of award-winning cookies—I don’t care what it is—but let’s just say you did a swell job. Congratulations come your way. You’re showered with praise. Accolades abound. You make a lot of money—whatever!
My point is this: If you use the money, praise, and accolades to feed your ego, I hijack all the power. You get temporary pleasure, while I get a meal for a lifetime.
Even if you give to a good cause, I get a full course meal if you are giving out of guilt or obligation. Because then you are just reacting again. Get it?
A WORTHWHILE TRANSACTION
There was once a man who was asked—let me rephrase—he was pressured to give a lot of money to two orphans. After he gave the money, he felt uncomfortable with his decision (of course, I played a hand in that!). He started to calculate how much was left for him during these difficult times. I got him thinking to himself, “You know what? Maybe someone else should have been asked. Why does it have to be me all the time? Maybe I can go and ask for the money back—if not the whole thing, then at least maybe some of it.”
In this case, I was really prospering. Why? Because this man had done his act of sharing half-heartedly, which meant that all of the Light that should have gone to him was coming to me! And since we are talking about helping orphans, we’re talking about big, big Light coming my way!
But God could not let this go on, so God intervened by sending in one of his special emissaries. The angel showed up dressed like a wealthy merchant. He said, “I hear that you want your money back. That’s not a problem. I will give it to you. Just let me have the Light that you were set to receive from this transaction and I will give you the money.”
This unusual request slapped this guy out of the coma I had put him in, and he realized that his true desire was for the Light. The emissary offered even more money, but I had lost my hold on the donor. With a clear mind, he was able to affirm that what he wanted was the Light. The money no longer held value for him. And with that, the emissary left.
THE DEVIL INSIDE
Throughout the ages you were given clues. Moses, Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, and others—they all gave you tools to eradicate me. But naturally, I stepped in. I distorted their teachings. I took their tools and created one of my masterpieces—religion. Unquestionably my greatest invention. Religion protects me. Hides my true identity. Propagates self-righteousness. It keeps you on the straight and narrow—as in narrow-mindedness!
Let me tell you a funny story about the nature of religion.
Two monks were walking in the wilderness when all at once they spotted a beautiful woman stranded on the other side of a stream. The young monk was taken aback by her beauty, but didn’t skip a beat. Without hesitation, he waded through the stream to assist her. This didn’t go over well with his fellow monk. In fact, this is where I step into the story. I planted feelings of disgust in his mind, and the next thing you know he was shouting, “What do you think you are doing?” He watched as the helpful monk lifted the young lady into his arms, carried her safely to the other side, and continued on his way.
The distraught monk crossed the stream, caught up to his helpful colleague, and the two walked side by side without speaking. Some two hours later, the distraught monk said to his friend, “I don’t understand how you could have touched that woman, let alone held her in your arms as you carried her across the stream.”
The young monk answered, “It’s funny that you should say that. I left that woman behind hours ago. It appears that you are still carrying her.”
He was right, and it couldn’t have happened without me. I linger in the minds of the righteous, encouraging them to blindly adhere to dogma and doctrine while forgetting their real purpose. Like the distraught monk, you blame an external devil for all the problems of the world. But, as you are learning, the true Adversary has taken up residence inside you.
The extramarital sex, the lies, the hypocrisy—you think those temptations derive from some external evil. You’re a little bit right. It’s my doing, all right. But I’m not out there. I’m inside of you. The truth of the matter is that all of you (even the worst of you) are decent, loving people. Deep inside, that is. Your only mistake is you confuse me with you. Want to remove the evil from the world? Want to live forever? Come clean. Right now. End my reign. But know that I’m working hard to make that thought too frightening to even consider.
And to all you folks who flock to houses of worship all over the globe, I have a news flash:
God does not need your worship.
Going to church, synagogue, or the mosque has never been God’s goal for you. These are merely places where you can begin the work. Don’t get me wrong. Doing your due diligence on Sunday morning isn’t a bad thing; just don’t think that walking through that door will get me off your back. In fact, I suggest you lose the term altogether: House of Worship. What kind of God would demand that?
It’s a trick. A fraudulent understanding (thanks to me) of what is required of you. You are here to wage war, not to worship. The war is against me, the Satan. And I am inside of you. Walk into your place of connection—your mosque, your church, your synagogue—with your ugliest traits fully exposed. Make yourself vulnerable. And use the tools you’ve been given to wipe me out. The more negativity you admit to and identify within yourself, the weaker I become.
Life is not about your redeeming qualities. And it’s certainly not about your kind personality. Far from it, people.
Life is about your wickedness. Your so-called sins. It’s about uncovering all your egocentric traits. In other words, the key to life is finding me inside you. How ironic. The world constantly searches for God in an attempt to find happiness. Big mistake! The search for happiness begins with the search for me! Ferreting out Satan is the path to the Light. Who would’ve believed it, right?
Did you know that the Latin word Lucifer, another name for me, means “Light-bringer” (from luxllucis, meaning “Light,” and ferre, meaning “to bear/bring”)? It doesn’t mean “Dark-bringer.” Surprised? I’ve been telling you since the first page of this autobiography that the ultimate truth of my existence is not what you think it is. Not at all.
Think of it this way: A lamp illuminates a room. But then someone lays several blankets over the lampshade, turning the room pitch-black. You walk in and the door slams shut behind you. You can’t see a thing, but there’s no sense looking for the light switch. The light is already on! Instead, you need to find the blankets that are blocking it.
I cannot make it any simpler than this. The more quickly you remove the blankets, the more quickly the room goes from dark to light. God works the same way. God’s Light is always turned on, God’s Energy always present. But there are blankets concealing the Light and I add one every time you serve me. So, find me and you find the Light. Find me, and you find God. Find me, and you find happiness.
Wipe out all the traits I encourage you to take on. Admit your faults, expose your dirty laundry, and reveal your darkest secrets. If you can do that, you leave no place for me to hide.
Know that I will fight you every step of the way. I am supposed to, remember? I will use promotions, and honors, and prizes to celebrate all your wonderful attributes. To celebrate your genius. Your goodness. Your incredible talents. The result? Your self-importance grows and my power over you grows along with it.
So, please continue to sweep the corruption of religion and the ills of society under the carpet. Ignore the abuses of power and the persecution. Instead, walk around telling everyone how good you are. How kind you are. How right you are. How perfect you are. Keep denying that I exist. Wallow in your sense of helplessness. Bask in your depression. Enjoy!
Or get real.
What’ll it be?