They tell me that if I work hard enough that I can be whatever I want to be. So it seems like a small step to accept the theory that if I think it, it must be so. And that the moment I think, it becomes a truth that all must accept. Because if I think hard enough and I can reach the stars, how farfetched is to think that if I believe myself to be human, that in that instance it must be true.
And since I am what I think, the moment that I demand my rightful place and plate at the human table, demand the keys to the van, and all the privileges that come with being human, and all dissenting voices must fall silent. Because any insistence that this handsome little pup, intelligent and adorable as he may be, is ignorant of the rules of the road, does not have a driver’s license and his little paws were not built to handle the steering wheel, can only be motivated by pride and prejudice, and not by fact or reason.
For it is only the foolish naysayers, who are devoid of heart and reason, who will heartlessly insist that there is no scientific foundation to support my belief that if I think I am something, than I instantly become what I think myself to be. But that bland old science would agree with that outdated old adage, if he looks like a dog, if he acts like a dog, and if he barks like a dog, than he must be a dog. and not the elegant man of fashion I believe myself to be.
Sadly, only those with enlightened minds, will understand the superiority of our higher understanding that my truth is my truth and your truth is your truth and even though they are diametrically opposed to each other, both are truth. Therefore it is possible that I can be a handsome pup one day, the next a debonair world traveler, and a day or two latter I can transform into King Happy, the rightful owner of the world and its fortune.
And without batting an eye, the enlightened members of the humanity will follow my just command as their royal king.
Hmm, the silence is deafening. What happened to the loud chants of praise that I was whatever I believed myself to be, and that feelings trumped facts? How is that that fact became fiction so that the fact that I am a little pup turned into fiction the moment that I felt that I was a 6 foot tall human, and fiction became fact as I instantly transformed from a pup to a human, and anyone who said otherwise was blind. But the second that I claimed a dime of their bank account, facts became facts and feelings now had nothing to do with facts. And instead of celebrating my strongly held truth that I am King of the world, and cheerfully giving me lots of their money, they scoffed at me and said that I had lost my puppy mind.
What happened to the new truth that feeling is facts and facts are based on feelings? How is my truth that I am King Happy any more a fantasy than my belief that I am Happy the car driving man?
Somehow it seems that the belief that I think therefore I am, and I if I feel it, it must be true loses its luster the moment I think I am the owner of the world, and that their house and money is now mine.