Manifested enlightenment

A statue of Jesus Christ

My life as a young boy

It is of immense utility to be knowledgeable.

At least, that was the thought that struck me when I realized I valued nothing.

I’d grown to accommodate a comfortable and sheltered life, a life in which I only appreciated the “little things”—gratitude and simplicity.

Like a lot of people, such as the multitude of children who live in the impoverished corners of the world, my love and devotion found abundant manifestation in food, shelter, sports, and religion. 

But human nature extends beyond mere survival.

In those numinous and introspective days at church—especially church! —or outside in the dry fields playing pick-up soccer, it did not occur to me that I incubated unconsciously a competitive streak.

How could I, a young boy raised in the cradles of a godly family and an East African city known for its spirituality rather than its intellectualism, have suspected with certainty the profundity and supremacy of personal growth?

That was a question that increasingly became clear and answerable to me the farther I progressed through academia, and the more I longed to accumulate knowledge and perform confidently in all areas of my studies.

Mere survival didn’t cut it, and evolution won decisively for me.

In other words, you can’t have enlightenment if you walk with your eyes closed.

That’s just how it is. 

What is enlightment?

I frame enlightenment here as the paramount emblem of self-awareness.

If you come to think about it, the naked truth—the capital “T” truth—is that any living and amicably mobile creature will straight up continue to survive if it has healthful eyes and therefore can see.

But this pair of eyes doesn’t operate in isolation.

Together with the brain—or more generally, its infinite neural capacity and ability to make intelligent judgment on physical phenomena—the eyes become the condition for survival and enlightenment.

In this view, then, enlightenment, true enlightenment, is not a far-off territory, a vague and obscure Neverland that only the blessed—those divinely gifted few—can grasp or experience.

Instead, through intense curiosity, anyone with the gut to travel far enough in the dark, can bathe in the beauty of the light.

My subconscious mind as my secret fuel

Somehow, that’s the plain and extravagant voice that sustained me all those years.

I didn’t realize it at the time, just the extent to which I loved learning, but I’m struck by that love now.

That's the same love that compelled me to start blogging.

Unfamiliar to me, the blogging world was a cold and hostile mise en scène.

Despite this, and other run-of-the-mill setbacks, however, I was still determined.

As I set out to write, I intentionally clarified what I wanted to say, clearly.

My one and only goal was to write often, or until I simply became enlightened.

Indeed, this term, enlightenment, prominently appears in my very first blog—Why did I start blogging? —which is every bit as fascinating as the entire blog, and the motivation behind this essay.

I did not previously understand the meaning of the word enlightenment!

Impossible to believe? Above all, look at it this way.

Prior to the moment of writing my first blog, I had not questioned if I really understood the meaning of the word “enlightenment.”

Sure, I’d picked up the word in high school during a human history course about the “age of enlightenment.”

But my full grasp of the word was all-thumbs, at best.

For some incoherent reason, I had no particular interest in, or capacity to question its appearance in religious studies, such as in Hinduism and Buddhism.

I had not, even once, stopped to observe that enlightenment, in some religious parts of the world such as the East, was celestially consequential with life-changing, or incarnative, implications.

My secret voice was still with me all along

Nevertheless, I recollected the word and its meaning.

All along, perhaps, it had been incredibly obvious to me that I needed to achieve enlightenment, to write better, even if such a wish seemed elusive to me.

(Our God-given desires and feelings have a way of whispering to remind us of who we truly are!)

All that time, when I spent countless hours planning the blog, writing, reading, and editing it, it was just to manifest what I desired.

That’s the divine nature of manifestation—if you want something, anything, just turn it over and over in your head, and it will become a reality.

Conclusion

This is not a trivial thing, and I’m pointedly aware.

In the future, I hope to remember the reasons why I took up this hobby.

The following questions will always keep me at work: 

Did I start blogging to write about this?

Or is this something I would not want to manifest?