First we pretend that we exist
as independent and enduring persons.
Then we pretend there are others who are
going about and performing the same trick.
Then we pretend that we suffer some sort of separation
between our pretend self and those imaginary others.
Then we pretend that we can find a way to relieve ourselves
of the suffering resulting from such wry pretensions.
If we happen to be very imaginative, we pretend
that we have discovered such a wonderful scheme.
In the ensuing fun, we might enthusiastically proclaim
our made-up religion to all of our fictional playmates.
We may even pretend that we are just the one to alleviate
their imaginary disease, in the costume of a sage or priest.
Many take this seriously, or at least pretend to –
after all, it’s fun to pretend!
That’s why He pretends –
Mister Satchitananda Himself.
Mr. Supreme Reality.
We say “He”, but that’s just pretending too.
He pretends to be us, then He pretends
to forget that He is just pretending.
Then He searches for Himself
to finally find and remind Himself
that He’s just been pretending.
He must love this game of pretending,
because it is all He seems to want to do!
When He finally gets tired and takes a long nap,
everything that he made up twinkles and disappears.
Then there is nothing, the same state in which we now exist,
but without the dreamy baggage of our personal pretense.
No wonder it’s called “The Divine Comedy”!