“Here, it all begins. This place, this feeling, this life. A clean slate.” JSM

Chapter Thirty One


The Cosmic Egg.

A creation story shared by multiple cultures and ancient civilizations. The origin of the universe described as emerging from an egg and life beginning after its hatching. From nothing, comes everything. The stories span from Greece to China, deeply rooted among many cultures in between, and beyond.

Egyptian tales tell a story of Ra and the deity being encased in an egg. Vedic mythology speaks of a great egg floating through emptiness, then one day splitting into Heaven and Earth. The details are scattered and vary culture to culture, yet a plethora of ancient tales tell of the cosmic egg. An emergence of everything from within the absence of everything.

Once upon a time before time, something was drifting in an infinite black void and split in two, releasing all we know. A different civilization may share the story of an egg being placed on newly created earth by a great bird, then hatching once the bird returned to flight.

Depictions of the origin of the universe, detailed as being oval shaped, slightly pointed at one end and wider at the other are carved in stone, drawn on parchments and spoken of in religious text.

Typically in ancient times, if it’s carved in stone or shaped from rock, it’s meant to last.

These locations, vastly spread across the ancient world, saw the egg as a literal origin story. “This is how it all happened.”

I went the route of symbolic. Sure… I get the literal interpretation and have enjoyed my exploration of these beliefs and while I respect the stories, I feel as though a personal symbolism approach is more fitting.

Not unlike the tales of antiquity where everything came from a singular point within nothing, and all is then shaped and formed into existence, I believe an individual has the same ability. Albeit on a smaller scale.

Through some of this tale, I speak about a “safe-house” and collapsing to its floor once I breached the building. A large multi-room, vacant, two story home sitting on the fringes of the town I escaped. I needed to remain in the school district and it was mandatory that I stay close, but not too close. My kids still needed their dad. After a time of grieving inside the empty shell of a house, I slept almost twenty four hours straight.

One of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my adult life is kiss my children, wipe their tear soaked faces and while faking a smile, tell them I have to leave.

However, I ensured them I’d be close by.

With a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a backpack hanging from the other I entered the safe-house and breathed in the musty air of my new digs. A prearranged location where I could go if ever needed. Contingency plans should always be in order.

The details leading me to this new place will not be spoken about. You’re welcome.

The ones who know, are the ones who need to know. The devils are in the details and I keep those little bastards close to my chest.

Those events that brought me to the new home were the beginnings to my emergence from my own personal cosmic egg. For thirty years I imprisoned my body, heart and soul inside a thin shell which was thick and strong enough to keep me blind, yet unbeknownst to my knowledge at the time, fragile enough to break through. My issue, was knowing when to push through the shell and fully emerge. I hadn’t even seen a crack yet.

New foreign territory. A new towering mountain to climb with barely any support.

Completely alone, other than a few family members and a couple of trustworthy close friends, I tackled it solo. I had to. I had no choice. Some learn the hardest of ways that each choice made, has potentially unforeseen circumstances. Regardless of the fact you’re convinced you’re doing the right thing.

I was alone. A lot.

I had the dog, my few personal belongings, work equipment and nothing around me but the swirling sounds of deafening silence.

No furniture. No TV. No chair. Some items arrived over time, but from the initial moment I stepped inside, everything I owned was on my person, and Shelby panting and confused stood close by me attached to her leash.

The first personal lesson I was forced to endure was finding the ability to drown out the unending noises bouncing around the brain.

Impossible. The mind plays cruel and heartless tricks on the subconscious. It makes you see what you want to see and forces you to witness that which you refuse. It makes you hear what you think you want to hear and as the conversations escalate and spiral into violence and madness, then comes the screaming. An unrelenting continuous wail of a tortured soul. Conjured larger than life visages of the imagination played out like movies on an endless loop of misery, and the theater screen is within the darkness behind sealed eyes.

You wish it to end. You tell yourself it’s all in your head, yet the evil realm of the mind says otherwise.

No. It’s time to suffer.

Tears dripping into the cracks of the wooden floor, my knees curled to my chest in the fetal position and trapped in a mental prison of my own creation, I had a fleeting thought, if you went back in time, what would you change?

Nothing. This is the new beginning. In the beginning was you and this house. It all starts here.

Before passing out from exhaustion, eyes red and puffy,taking an inventory of all my trinkets and books I had a conversation with myself out loud; focusing my voice towards the dog.

“At this point, all you know is wrong. It was all an illusion. What do you need to do right now?”


“Let’s start with truth. What is the truth?”

“All you know is wrong. So… there is no truth.” I snatched up a Raymond Feist novel and thumbed through the pages. “The only actual real truth is that everyone lies. Everyone lies or has lied to you. You were lied to, by everyone. Everyone lies…”

Everyone lies…

Then I truly allowed my mind to go and wander. My thoughts traveled at warp speed and I searched my memories for each lie and deceitful act against me over the course of my history.

I knew I’ve wronged others in my past, but always felt as though I’ve atoned for what I’ve done to others. I’ve apologized. I’ve returned favors and never took advantage of another human. Never trampled on the backs of others to accomplish my goals. I like to say that I take pride in doing onto others as I would want them to do unto me. The world around me, however, loves to lie. I thought even as far back as childhood when I heard the story of the Easter Bunny hiding chocolate eggs for kids to find.

Kids being lied to by their parents. Shame! In fact… friends, family, co-workers, significant others, spouse, community members, leaders, religious folk… my kids. My kids have lied to me!

I placed blame where blame belonged, screamed to the ceiling and created a singular truth. Only one thought was composed of absolute truth. Everything is a lie.

My origin story was formed, weaved and stitched together, on the basis that my life has been one colossal deception.

I made a snap decision to no longer associate with others. All done with the blindsides, deceit and backstabbing. You can’t get hurt if no one is around to hurt you.

Selfish and self absorbed? Absolutely.

When alone for the first time in thirty five years, you really don’t give a shit.

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