I Brought A Cave With Me

I used to think I escaped “the Cave”, but that was just one cave. A cave of many.

One in particular has been ongoing and internal. The cave I created for myself.

Not from stone or ideology, but from identity. From cleverness. From the warm self-satisfaction that comes from believing you’ve seen through it all.

That’s a cave too.

A beautiful one. Customized. Upgraded with critical thinking and prickly takes. But still a cave.

I’m still watching shadows. Maybe not as many, but still as hypnotic. Maybe even more hypnotic.

The shadows we create ourselves are the most hypnotic.

They echo our pain. They mirror our pride. They flatter our intellect.

They let us perform awareness while avoiding the real thing.

That’s the trickiest trap: when illusion wears your face.

It’s easy to call out the projections of others.

It’s harder to admit that the shadow on the wall is cast by your own torch and hands.

I’ve made theaters out of trauma.

Constructed whole philosophies to justify an aversion to vulnerability.

Sometimes even awareness itself becomes the disguise.

But this is the real work.

Not pointing fingers at flickering shadows,

but catching the moment my own hand lifts to shape one.

Catching my bias,

reacting to my reflex,

baffling myself with bullshit stories dressed up as clarity.

And what do I do then?

I return to the Work. I return to the body.

I return to the moment when I’m tying my shoe, or stubbing my toe, or feeling the sudden burn of being misunderstood… and remember that each of these is fuel.

I used to think I was free because I saw the cave and its dancing walls.

Now I know: Knowing how to be free isn’t it. Conscious work is.

Turning everyday mundane occurrences or everyday stressors into fuel for the work.

Freedom from illusion isn’t a trophy.

It’s a practice. A discipline. A direction. The cave doesn’t disappear, you just learn to stop facing the walls as much.

Tying my shoe is an opportunity for the Work, similar to how a morning meditation is. Or stubbing my toe. Or even that stressful call with a customer service rep. Each is a chance to unface the wall.

In my opinion, nobody really leaves all the Caves. Either external or internal but especially internal At best, you become more skilled at noticing its echoes and dances inside you.

Maybe the deepest freedom isn’t escape….but noticing when I start painting shadows again.