The Emperor Has No Clothes
Just a few days ago, I thought of the exact words for my life-long experience:
Without having the language or understanding of it, since I was young, I have been aware that the Emperor has no clothes.
The tale concerns an emperor who has an obsession with fancy new clothes, and spends lavishly on them at the expense of state matters. One day, two conmen visit the emperor's capital. Posing as weavers, they offer to supply him with magnificent clothes that are invisible to those who are either incompetent or stupid. The gullible emperor hires them, and they set up looms and pretend to go to work. A succession of officials, starting with the emperor's wise and competent minister, and then ending with the emperor himself, visit them to check their progress. Each sees that the looms are empty but pretends otherwise to avoid being thought a fool.
Finally, the "weavers" report that the emperor's suit is finished. They mime dressing him and he sets off in a procession before the whole city. The townsfolk uncomfortably go along with the pretense, not wanting to appear inept or stupid, until a child blurts out that the emperor is wearing nothing at all. The entire town then realizes the truth of the observation and repeats the child's cry. The emperor awkwardly continues with the procession, unwilling to admit that he has been had.
I have always seemed to be the only one in my family-of-origin who has been aware of truth. Further, I know that my toxic family structure was also a microcosm of every other relationship: with God, self, relationships, things, society, earth....
Of course everyone around me didn't admit to seeing what I saw, felt, and knew. Instead, I bore the burden of being the flawed one. I proceeded to spend decades trying to fix myself, and to find shared reality with someone.
I exposed too much of what I see and know to the wrong people (starting with my parents) who, in turn, smeared, gaslit, mocked, ganged up on, and shamed me--essentially keeping me on the stand in “court,” forever pleading my case to be released from the accusations of being too sensitive, thinking too much, wanting too much, not being bubbly enough, being too aware and otherwise not worthy to be here. I wanted to be pardoned so I could finally live safely in shared reality with someone, somewhere.
I see now that I was trying desperately to get someone else to also admit that, figurately, the Emperor had no clothes.
But now I know: most people contently live in what feels like The Truman Show and The Matrix.
I finally have stopped wasting my precious time and efforts trying to convince anyone that the Emperor has no clothes. I now know, let the sleeping stay asleep.
My intuition, attunement, discernment, standards, and perspectives have always been very reliable--now, however, I honor and follow them. I removed myself off the “stand,” out of the “courtroom” and only allow for those who know and want truth, resonance and relating.
I'd rather be myself and to see and know the truth, even if I’m doing it completely alone.
"So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of My mouth."
Revelation 3:16 (KJV)
To those of you who know that the Emperor has no clothes and aren’t going to pretend otherwise, I would love to speak with you. Pro truth. Pro reality. Realist. Genuine. Sincere.