A Halloween Soul Metaphor—The Zombies Among Us

Each Halloween, we get a chance to think a little about famous monsters. The monsters of our childhood. The monsters of our advancing age. The monsters our kids might be for the holiday (or that they may seem to become, sometimes). The monsters that we witness in public life, or that, occasionally, we ourselves can become too.

You may notice that the really famous monsters are scary on a couple of levels. First, on the level of the material imagery; and then on a deeper metaphoric, or spiritual level. Take Frankenstein (please!). He's plenty scary on the obvious material level, but he also makes a pretty scary metaphor – as the manifestation of self-will run amok; the consequences of our wanting to play God with the natural world, with our lives, and with the lives of others. Or Dracula, as a symbol of soul exploitation – people who selfishly suck the life out of other people; or out of Mother Nature, for that matter. Or the Wolfman – the potentially violent beast within us all, unleashed by the uncontrollable cycle of life...a curse he passes along whenever he bites someone else.

So what's up with all the Zombies? They seem to be everywhere these days. Zombies in the movies, on TV, in commercials and videogames – almost everywhere you look, there are zombies popping up. What are we trying to say, on a deeper level, with this zombie fascination? Well, let's take a look (if you dare…)

 Most obviously, zombies are the undead. Inhumane humans who've lost their souls, so the only life they have left is spent unconsciously feeding off the souls of the living. They selfishly grope around for the next bite that's going to fuel their empty search. In that sense, they're really much like unconsciously self-centered people (profit-driven entrepreneurs or mindless consumers), lurching about ineffectively, swarming on any situation where their appetites may be sated. So eternally they flounder around, staggering through a soulless system, driven to find something to feed their emptiness, but only finding more remorseful, bottomless hunger.

They would find their solution – their rest – if they'd just die already, wouldn't they? Symbolically, that simply means "dying" to the empty, ego-driven life of schlepping from one incessant need to the next. Realizing that the death of "who you are supposed to be" and "how it will look to others" in our often soulless, demanding culture will reveal a real peace, and a responsible purpose that may have been hidden right in front of you all along. It's not really about what any single one of us needs – it's about what every single one of us needs: Love, Purpose, Spiritual sustenance.

I'm sorry to point out that the people responsible for all of this zombie programming, sadly, may just be the zombies "in charge" – which gives us another spiritual challenge to face...how do we recognize the undead among us?

Well, zombies couldn't care less about what you think. They're not at all interested in your thoughts on any subject; and what's even worse, they don't give a damn about how anything makes you feel. You're not going to get anywhere by politely asking a zombie not to eat you. Zombies only think about their own delusion of self, and no amount of actual evidence will persuade them to recognize reality, so zombies dare not allow themselves to feel anything except fear or anger (which are the same thing), and expresses itself as hate or entitlement or arrogant bullying. God bless 'em.

Not being zombie-like yourself means opening up to what others think; and more importantly, to how they feel. Relating, sincerely, to one another’s feelings, and by doing so, to share the experience – and the intelligence – of our shared heart-energy. Forgiveness and compassionate consciousness are the only things that can help a zombie re-enter the real world of the living, and the only ways to deal with a zombie, even if – God forbid – we realize it’s ourselves.

I hate to get too graphic, but they do say the only way to kill a zombie is "to kill the zombie's brain," and they may have a good point there (whoever "they" are). It’s very likely that zombies probably think too much with their dizzy, addled heads, and not with their grounded hearts. That’s where the path to restoring a zombie’s soul (or to help a struggling ghoul to find it themselves) must initiate from. It seems like a long schlep, sometimes, that short stretch from the upturned graveyard of the head, to the peaceful, heavenly realm of the heart.

When dealing with a zombie, try to look past that unkempt exterior – the unconscious self-centeredness, the fearful pallor and fugue-like gaze past you, the blood n' guts everywhere. Many zombies are really good at heart, they've simply been made “undead” by a monstrous metaphor ­– ­the Dark Lord of the Unconscious Ego; but look beyond the quickly fading external images, into the compassionate spirit we all share, and you will find the zombie’s struggling heart.

If you fear you’ve become a little zombie-like yourself, simply start living in your soul's life, that's where you’ll find the real, joyful world of the living–not on the shifting horror show of life’s “silver screen.”

And for Halloween, I recommend that you don't go as an orange, flesh-eating  ghoul, or dress your kids that way, either. Instead, go as a fairy, or an angel, or just as the bright, shining light that you really are. Happy Halloween!

"There is a light within people of light, and they shine it upon the whole word. If they do not shine it, what darkness!

The Gospel of Thomas, Logion 24

Read about this and much more in: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), Wisdom From a Near-Death Survivor  from Llewellyn Worldwide available direct on this page, or online. The first book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond is available the same ways – but ask for it it at your local bookstore!

Fear Is Like A Giant Multi-Legged Caterpillar

This "Mechapillar" from Codename: Kids Next Door will have to do...

"Fear is a giant, ugly caterpillar that just wants to eat the grass you're hiding behind."

Why would anyone ever say such a thing, unless they were launching into hyperbolic metaphor?

It's out there, rooting around your wild perimeter, slowly tracking you down on a hundred disturbing little legs. Yep, it's fear again, though it may be dressed in some new form, like a giant multi-legged insect, an impossible deadline, or the potential discovery of one of your closely guarded secrets.

You hunker down in the grass, pressing dirt into your knees, and almost stop breathing. Perhaps it will move away, maybe pass right by you. But no, inevitably the huge waxy leaves part, and there it is! A screaming caterpillar the size of a brownstone (an apartment house east of The Rockies), waving it's creepy multitudinous arms, twitching it's bug jaws like a Cronenberg movie, and worst of all, it knows right where you're hiding!

Things look awful bad, as it raises up on it's haunches, haunches, haunches, etc., coiling itself like a cobra about to strike...and here it comes—right at you, it's pinchy jaws bearing down around you! THIS IS IT! IT'S, IT'S ...wait a minute...it stops just before it actually does any harm to you, and gently and fastidiously, begins munch munch munching all the grass around you, until you're just hunkered down, completely exposed, and completely safe. Then it happily whirrs away, leaving you standing up again, brushing the dirt off your kneecaps.

That grass will grow back you know. You'll want to hide in it again, like so many times before. But notice how good it feels to be out in the open. Honesty is a real, powerful action to take, that will deliver you to freedom you've never imagined possible before. You're fine. It wasn't real. It just had to reveal to you what you can be.

I always like to say that unless a bear is chasing you, fear isn't real. That works for tigers, and crocodiles too–God bless 'em.

And as for what you can be, the caterpillar thing works that way too. After it eats enough, it latches onto a suitable branch and forms a chrysalis around itself. Inside that bag, it turns into a chaotic mush, a complete chemical deconstruction that doesn't seem to know what it's going to be, until order begins to return, and inside it's new form finally takes shape. I know what that feels like. Everyone probably does. That confusion before it realizes what it can become...and then... 

Schmetterling, in German. Choucho, in Japanese. Mariposa, in Spanish.

A Butterfly for you.

This blog is a revisitation of a favorite topic, seen in it's original form four years ago. Read about this and much more in the new book: How to Get to Heaven (Without Really Dying), Wisdom From a Near-Death Survivor, from Llewellyn Worldwide, and the first book: How to Survive Life (and Death), A Guide To Happiness In This World and Beyond. Both are available everywhere – but ask for them at your local bookstore!