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May Selection
Becoming  No One

Follow the extraordinary adventures of Ugo Pèlerin as he ventures from one philosophical mystery and paradox to the next as he seeks enlightenment ...and survival.

This months preview features begins with Ugo's birth and the Title of the book. Can Ugo find himself in a world of mannequins?

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May Selection - Becoming No One

Read Time 4:37

Whenever I was born, I was provided with a mannequin. A very loud motor was attached to operate its movement’s and gestures. They called the motor a brain. It had steering mechanisms they called frontal lobes and it was fitted with this cerebral cortex they told me was used to operate emotions. As I learned to operate my mannequin, I got rewarded. Applause, praises, kisses, all came when I I operated my mannequin well for the first time. My parents watched over me very closely, not letting me crash or damage my mannequin too severely.


As my parents kept observing me, so I started to observe them.


“Ugo,” they called me. “What a nice mannequin you have.” I gazed into their eyes and to see if they meant it. Little did I know they were tricking me, damaging me. As they taught me to operate my mannequin, they were secretly manipulating my lessons into Someone training. They were evolving me into Someone.
I eventually got good at operating my mannequin - really good. I could do all sorts of tricks with it - play a piano, make people laugh. I soon became quite comfortable with it, too comfortable! I was so comfortable with it, I started to lose the distinction between my mannequin and myself, something I didn’t want to do.
My parents and all the people around me kept saying, “Ugo, you have a really impressive mannequin.” They wanted me to be a good operator of my mannequin, be responsible for my mannequin, be proud of my mannequin, be successful with my mannequin.


“But why? It’s just a mannequin.” I asked.  


They told me if I did these things, I would be happy; however, my mannequin didn’t quite fit. It was heavy to bear. I was very uncomfortable. I felt very strange. Yet, everyone kept telling me I must be very happy to have such a well operating machine. I wasn’t.


I was so unhappy, my parents took me to specialists, they had a different type of mannequin. They taught me - for a price - to make adjustments to my mannequin. They wanted my mannequin to be more like theirs. It looked shinier, more sophisticated.


Even more people said, “What a beautiful mannequin!” My mannequin now had status. My mannequin had become Someone. This attracted more and more Someones all around me.


All the Someones were reinforcing the same universal system over and over and they were all very busy becoming Someones. One day, I met a boy Someone who said to me, “Ugo, I’ll pretend this mannequin is who I am, and you pretend the one your wearing is who you are, and neither of us will say otherwise!”


“But why I asked?” The boy didn’t have a name, or if he did he never used it.


“Because that’s what Everyone does.”


I shrugged and agreed to join everyone into this conspiracy agreement.  


This led to all of us wanting our individual mannequins to stand out. We yearned for the applause, praises, kisses we got when we first got our mannequins. We all started to compare differences with the other mannequins.


The boy said to me, “Look, hers is shiny and very nice. Look at that guys, his is dull and older, but he puts a lot of accessories on it.”


We began to make dimensional distinctions and categorize them. Now we only saw each mannequin as separate and different. We only paid attention to the differences much more than we ever noticed similarities.


All the socialization and mannequin development, and all the categorizing left me with a very strong sense of being an individual Someone. I soon completely surrendered and forgot the mannequins weren’t real at all.


Then one day, I met a being – a being who was not a Someone, at least not anymore. He didn’t care at all about his mannequin - not at all! I had never come across such a creature. The motor of his mannequin had broken. He went to the repair shop, but they couldn’t fix it. He had to learn to be with a broken mannequin or dispel it completely. So he got rid of it. Now, without the motor spinning and raging, he could hear clearly. Without the structure impeding his vision, he could see what he’s never seen before. Without the mannequin to bear, he had to find himself for his real self had gotten lost inside it. He searched for a while, but he found himself tucked deeply away where he had been hidden and unseen.


I pinched my chin and asked, “What’s it like to not have a working mannequin? It must be very strange.”


He stared at me before he spoke, “I can no longer say that I am shinier, or I am newer, or I am smarter. I have no mannequin to distinguish myself from others. I can only say, ‘I am.’


“That must be so weird and different?”


“At first it was. I felt cheated, angry. I spent my whole life operating a mannequin instead of paying attention to myself. I spent my whole life hidden away. Why was I programmed by the other uncomfortable, destructive mannequins to create mine in the same way? The elders should know better. I came to realize they too were blinded by their sheltering mannequins. They didn’t know better, though they certainly acted as if they did.”


“Such strange and odd talk,” I thought, but I was intrigued and listened more. This creature had a glow about him. He had a joy; I’ve never witnessed anyone that was never sad. He never stopped being happy, except for once when he was first afraid to lose his mannequin. It was all he ever knew, until he did lose it, then he was always joyous.


For months the creature taught me all he experienced since his mannequin had withered. He became my guru. I learned the prior guru’s I had in my life before weren’t gurus at all. They taught me things. Some gave me data, but not information. Some gave me information, but not knowledge. Some gave me knowledge, but not wisdom. No one gave me wisdom. They couldn’t. They had no wisdom because wisdom has a hard time existing where it cannot be heard or where it cannot see. They were teachers, but not gurus. This creature showed me Light. It was everywhere; yet I had never seen it before.


“You can only see Light with consciousness. You were too busy looking for it with your eyes.” He told me.


“Once I lost my ego mannequin,” he said. “I became consciousness and suddenly my mannequin was ugly. I shed it as fast as I could, and I became.


This creature’s joy and love was no longer restricted, hidden, sheltered. He was not a Someone. He reflected his consciousness to me, so I could experience it for myself. He was a mirror. He was No body, a No one. He was All.

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