In Plato’s Cave, people are chained against a wall, and their only view is the cave wall before them. Behind them is a fire, and strangers—whom they never see or meet—use the fire’s light to cast shadows on the cave wall. With no other reference, the chained people mistake these dancing shadows for reality.
But then, one of them is kicked out of the cave. He enters the light of the real world, and after a period of adjustment, his shadowy perception of reality is replaced by the new world he can taste, touch, listen to, and see. He now has a new life to create, and this is called ‘The Hero’s Journey.’
Our enlightened and liberated hero eventually returns to the cave to try to free those still chained with the truths that he’s found. He informs the chained, of the wealth of possibilities available to them outside the safety of the cave, but those chained don’t want to hear it. After calling him crazy, they return to the safety of watching the dancing shadows.
Let’s update this allegory, by replacing the cave with a suburban house and the wall with a wide-screen TV. And let’s say that the man or woman who was kicked out of the house—and society in general—was someone who refused the jab or, after taking a few, refused to take any more.
And for refusing, the punishment was losing jobs, family and friends, some even lost their homes and of course their status.
But they also lost their chains.
Suddenly, this community of heroes was faced with a great challenge: a fresh novel to write, titled What to Do with the Rest of My Life. They would write it, day after day, by exploring the world beyond the cave they’d just been kicked out of.
And instead of being called crazy, those left in the cave—who do not want to hear that another reality, even one more nurturing to the soul, is not only possible but waiting for them—use derogatory terms to keep these heroes at bay. Terms like “cookers” or “anti-vaxxers.”
But these “cookers” have triumphed. Instead of crumbling into nervous wrecks, crawling back to the mouth of the cave with their sleeves rolled up and begging to be jabbed, so as they can be let back in, they have created new lives, formed new friendships—many far deeper and richer than before—and some have even found new love. To date, I have not met one who regrets not taking it.
Their concerns now are not so much for themselves but for those who kicked them out.
For despite the fact that the shadows on their walls will never mention vaccine reactions or link injuries and excess deaths to these jabs, a cold truth has entered their cave and is now culling them.
Now they are developing turbo cancers—a term never before heard that is now commonplace. People are dying within weeks of being diagnosed. There are issues with kidneys, diabetes, strokes, and heart problems. So many heart problems.
But the shadows on the walls continue to dance, even portraying Trump like punch, in a Punch and Judy show.
Those outside the cave, however, know what is happening. We might not know exactly why or how many of those above us who pushed the narrative, knew, but we can see the result.
The placards we held up at all our marches—“Kill Shot” and the like—have long since ended up in landfills. There’s no need for them anymore, as social media is overcrowded with such posts.
Online, the truth has defeated their lies.
And in secret, the truth has also conquered the caves.
The shadows on the wall might be convincing, but they will never be as convincing as life’s eternal shadow: death.
The poison is within them, and they know it. Each odd sensation could be the time bomb ticking closer to the fuse. And there is nothing they can do.
We knew this would happen. And we wanted to be wrong. We wanted to be crazy. We wanted to be their “cookers.”
But the truth will now continue to purge their caves with the harsh light of one foundational fact:
Many of those who talked you into taking the experimental gene therapy were not driven by a need to take care of you.
The truth is that a cull is well underway. And although those who abstained—the disobedient—have successfully endured their punishment (a public punishment used to control those still in the cave), it is the obedient who are now reaping the rewards of compliance.
You are being culled. Chances are, the next revelation will be that your children—whom you pushed to take it—will not only develop many of these issues but may have also been left infertile by the jabs.
You are being culled, and your only crime was trusting the smiling people on the wall and giving in to fear.
If you have yet to be affected or are living with afflictions, then while you are still alive, you can help change things. If your life has been purposely shortened, why not do something powerful with this curtailed time?
Why not strive for justice?
Why not demand change?
Why not, as a gift to your soul and the rest of your life, switch off the pretty pictures on your wall and leave the cave?
The light of liberty is waiting to warm you, and the winds of purpose are waiting to fill your sails, guiding our fleet of free souls toward a new reality where hopes are realized and people—just like you—are allowed to throw off the chains of mediocrity and worthlessness to unleash their true power.
And the key to all this is faith: your ancient and instinctual connection to whatever God is.
But whatever God is, He didn’t send you here with all your senses, your ability to love, your capacity to survive the loss of love, your sense of humour, your ability to critically think, and more, to be a slave.
Slavery is your choice.
No, He sent you here with seeds of greatness implanted in your soul so you could become someone who has never existed before . . . You.
All we know, and all we will ever know, is that we are alive and that we will die.
Meaning, your life—if you want it—is yours. You are a unique novel where every day is a new page, that you write by living.
And currently, in this library of humanity, the world is craving heroic characters.
A character you could start creating today, for all the ingredients are within you, and the only stumbling blocks are fear and choice. So, choose well, for the closer to the end you get, the clearer this truth will become. Eventually, the only one left reading your novel, over and over, will be you.
Who knows? Perhaps being forced to read and reread the story of the life you actually led—and not the one you secretly always wanted to write—is a true description of hell.
Whereas a novel written by someone striving to be the best version of themselves, will be, at the very least, a favourite of the angels or perhaps even God.
Come forth, Hero. Come forth and add your much needed light to the world.
Michael Gray Grifftih
A good analogy with Plato's Cave, Michael. It's a reminder why so many don't want to see the shadows that have ruled their lives and poisoned their bodies and those of their children. Awakening to truth is rarely an 'ah hah' moment. It's usually an 'oh shit' realisation. But as Kahlil Gibran wrote in The Prophet, "Suffering is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self."
This was so well articulated and beautiful. It actually made me cry. I lost my best friend, and I lost a son. Not yet to death, but to rejection. And yet, despite those losses and others, I feel proud that I was willing to dig deeper. I was willing to do some heavy lifting and lots of homework. I was ready to look at things from many sides and not necessarily believe anything on its face. Yes, I have had losses, but I have gained a tremendous sense self-love, and self-respect. I realize that I am one of those people who’s willing to step outside of the matrix. And I so tried to help others only to be called insane. It’s kind of lonely, but one thing you can’t call me is a coward. Who knew? Quite the test.