“I’m not God, they just say I am. I’m just a guy who reached infinite potential.” We sat next to each other on a rock in my mind. Beyond us was a desert landscape, and beyond that were the outline of cities. One to the left, one to the right, then more, each separated by a patch of desert. He waved his hand across the expanse and each of the cities became a little more defined for a moment. “Those people put themselves in a heaven,” and so did those,” he said as his hand passed each by. “Over there,” he turned, “are people who are bad or who think they are bad, so they put themselves in hell.” He paused. “They,” he looked all around, “had a place in life, set themselves a time, and lived within a structure.” He sensed I didn’t quite understand. “They lived in this ‘place,’ gave themselves a set ‘time,’ and lived within a ‘structure’ that they accepted was their identity. And so in this realm, they do the same.” We sat and just felt the sadness of that concept for a moment.
“They all have what I have,” he said with a clear, confident voice. “They can reach what I have reached.” He sat silent, and when he did, there was a peace indescribable. “And so,” I dared to break that silence, “if they were to reach the infinite potential you have, would they be Gods, too?” “No, they would just be people like me. But others would think each of them was a God.” He glanced his eyes off into the distance and I followed them. I saw endless cities, heavens and hells, structured, existing in a time and place, and identified with by trillions of potential Gods.
“Are you the only one of your kind?” “There are plenty like me, plenty who have reached and practice infinite potential.” “Did they not live in a structure, time, and place?” “They did, and many of them believed in a God.” “Then how.” He cut me off. “They realized, and I realized, that faith was only to confirm the potential.”
“But just so long,” he said to me in a now agitated voice, “that people think that a God can do something for them, they will continue to not do it for themselves. And I can’t do anything for them. They have to realize that they are each on their own. They may have families, good friends, mentors and teachers, but ultimately it is what happens in their minds that makes the difference.” “Are they stuck?” “Not all of them. But most. The ones that are identify themselves as being in need, but they always will be. Because that is who they are.”
I sat on that rock in my mind with him and absorbed it all. After awhile I found myself alone. But his words lingered. And in my state I could hear him tell me that I truly am alone, and that it was up to me to figure it all out.