It wasn't Satan exactly

It wasn't Satan exactly.

Let me back up.

It was a voice that I heard - I was really high, and I got scared. I got really scared. I was super high, all alone, and I got into one of those states where it was like - knowing and hearing and fearing and being in flow, in communion with something bigger and more powerful than me. And it terrified me.

But just because I heard a voice and it terrified me doesn’t mean it was Satan.

I was raised Jewish. Jews don’t believe in Satan. Well, I mean, they don’t teach or talk about Satan. There’s no hell - there’s no heaven either - it’s just - life. That’s all. That’s all we have and all we know.

Except…

There’s a mystical side of Judaism. And most Jews nowadays don’t even believe in God. So to figure out what those ancient Hebrew mystical priests were going on about - the Tree of Life, the “divine spark”, a God who is not only indescribable but whose name is unpronounceable - is simply beyond most Jews today. Jews I talk to take all that mysticism as mere philosophy, if they know about it at all. Maybe once or twice a year they’ll file into synagogue and say the things and sing the songs and they go home, and they forget that they are part of a lineage that describes the evolution of human consciousness. They eat their bacon and they work on Saturdays and they remain unawake and unaware of the story.

The story about life.

I forgot the story about life - I still forget it all the time, I’m constantly waking up from the dream that I’m in control, I’ve got it all figured out. But every once in a while, a miracle happens, and I remember.

The voice was a miracle. And since I can’t say I know where the voice came from, it’s not logical to say with any certainty that it was Satan speaking to me.

It’s just that I don’t know that it wasn’t.