Butterflies Are Free To Fly
anyone else’s for that matter. Where’s your heart? Where’s your compassion for the pain
and suffering of others?”
Good questions – too good to pass over lightly in this chapter. So if you are really
“Compassion,” in Part Three of this book, and then come back here to continue.
As far as “not wanting those things in your own life,” that’s called “resistance,”
which we will discuss very soon.
* * *
It had been a long time since I had felt any discomfort at all. I was simply
appreciating life with great joy, living on the Mediterranean coast of Spain and writing
Then, as I was working on this particular chapter, I mentioned to a good friend a
news item that Spain was trying to outlaw the Muslim burqa as France had recently done.
I was amazed when he responded with full and unequivocal support for this, and then
launched into a list of judgmental opinions about the burqa, Muslim men, Islam, and
religion in general. I had listened patiently to other similarly judgmental opinions and
beliefs on different topics over the last month, as I knew he was deep into his own
process and these things would naturally come up; but this was more than I expected.
I had three immediate reactions: incredulity, disappointment, and sadness.
When I first met this friend, he was an angry, arrogant, highly opinionated and
depressed man, with a very big and stubborn ego, but a huge and generous heart and a
willingness to learn and grow. I say all that as an observation and none of it as a
judgment, since I didn’t think he was “wrong” for being that way and had no need or
desire for him to change; besides, I was exactly that way myself while a Human Adult
inside the movie theater. But I witnessed many changes in him over the past year of our
friendship, mainly as a result of his studying the work of Robert Scheinfeld, reading all
three of Jed McKenna’s books, and numerous conversations we had on the subject of the
holographic universe and becoming a butterfly. I really could not believe what I was
hearing this time, since he seemed totally comfortable with these opinions and showed no
sign of recognizing their fully judgmental basis or the need to process them if he truly
wanted to live in neutrality.
For about fifteen seconds I did judge him for this incident and wanted him to change,
but quickly remembered he, too, was only reading a script my own Infinite I had written
for me, and that his thinking and behavior were indeed perfect – which meant I had to run
the Process on my own discomfort and do my spiritual autolysis on it.
I saw clearly that my disappointment came from the thought – and fear – that I really
was alone. My friend, in his interest in self-realization, had given me hope that it was
possible for friends to go through this process together, to support each other, to even
form a community of cocoons, and then later butterflies. We had spent hours talking
about building a catamaran together and inviting others to sail with us for week-long
workshops to get a taste of what it was like to live in non-judgmental neutrality. Even
though I knew making plans like these was pointless – that my Infinite I was in charge of
creating all my experiences and not me – I totally enjoyed the daydreaming and loved the
camaraderie. But how, I thought, could I continue talking like that – talking about