That old man and I, we had ourselves a real chat after that first eye-opening little exercise. Time being irrelevant where we are, I couldn't say for sure how long we spoke. It wasn't the duration that mattered, it was the knowledge he shared. It's a shame I won't be allowed to take it back with me when the time comes. But I can understand how that would be considered 'cheating' in this little game that's been set up for us.

We covered so many details, more than I ever could have hoped to retain while I was alive. Up here though, things have an amazing way of 'sticking'. For instance, what the old man taught me about being selfish. I used to believe it had more to do with greed and narcissism, when really it's much simpler, and broader than that. It is about centering your thoughts on yourself, and attempting to project those thoughts into the minds of others. Making the mistake that they share your background and experiences that make up such a large part of what you believe. I was aware of the psychology behind projection, but failed to make the connection to selfishness that really lies at its root. I also failed, at first, to see how it applied to me while I was alive.

Now and again, you get lucky, and cross paths with those that share similar life experience patterns with you.  You become aware of this connection early on; these people often become your 'fast friends'. But there will always be others. The old man spoke about a vast group he called ASAKAs, who are Adult Survivors of All Kinds of Abuse. Most people fall into this category, he explained. Only the Lucky Few escape it completely. While true ASAKAs eventually grow into healthy adults, almost indistinguishable from the Lucky Few, there are others that don't. Those that choose instead to wallow in self-pity, and remain sickly, refuse to move on from past events. These are the WASAKAs, or Wallowing ASAKAs. How selfish are those that reach out to a WASAKA without pausing to consider the pain they stir up. How selfish was I.

The old man went on to explain that while an ASAKA learns to move on from their initial grudge against the Lucky Few, it is the WASAKA that feels far more than just a pang of jealousy. Where the Lucky are concerned, these WASAKA are consumed by their weakness and hatred; they allow their perceived illness to rule their existence, coming close to giving up the notion they ever had any control over their life at all. Enter, the Opinionated A-hole Masquerading As Messiah. 

The OAMAM is not to be trifled with. Though they are few and far between, they are quite dangerous, and they make their living collecting the souls of WASAKAs for their own personal amusement. The OAMAM takes pleasure in his well-crafted deceit to bend the wills of the sick and the weak into whatever shape he wishes. Some have become household names - - the Reverend Jim Jones, David Koresh, Charles Manson. Others led their followers on a different kind of wild and tragic ride, as did the OAMAMs of the Heaven's Gate Cult. The common thread between these from the past and those still walking among us is that the OAMAM always knows just who he is, just as he is fully aware of the WASAKAs inability or unwillingness to detect him. He also knows that as long as his subliminal messages of hopelessness are draped in flowery robes as he preaches about such things as good and evil, darkness and light, he will have his flock eating out of his hand, and drinking from his cup.

The old man shared a memorable analogy with me. The WASAKA is the lone shipwreck survivor, floating on a vast sea in a flimsy inner tube. The OAMAM travels the ocean in a small but sturdy boat, and has the uncanny ability to spot these sole drifters and call them together, enticing them to lash onto his craft for their own safety. Soon they are a group. Feeling safety in numbers, their ranks grow, with each new member tethering themselves to his boat, or another tube. As the growing mass continues to drift aimlessly, he fills their head with promises of reaching dry land someday. He tells many more stories, while deciding what he will ultimately do with them. Stories about creatures lurking in the water. Horrible, loathsome, lying creatures. Over time, they are convinced that should they separate from the group, their fate would be to wind up in this creature's belly. There are even rumors that some from the outer edges disappeared after encountering this wicked creature. This causes those that remain to cling tighter, straining to keep from even touching the water, in their tiny tubes. 

Only the OAMAM knows what the 'creature' really is ... it is one of the Lucky Few, or perhaps an ASAKA. It is one who is impervious to the OAMAM's clever deception, and if given the opportunity would heal each of his sickly prey, so that they could all see that the water is not to be feared, that in fact they have been in the shallows the whole time, and could easily walk up on shore at any time and escape the OAMAM, if they simply chose to.

The sneer of the OAMAM transforms into an evil smile. He doesn't fear the Lucky. He has Lieutenants on board capable of dealing with them. The Lieutenants distribute harpoons to the most frightened WASAKAs, then join them in taking aim. The Lucky make for easy targets, for they swim in too close, breaking the water's surface many times in an effort to get their message across. Many are killed. They sacrifice themselves, but keep coming, confident in the knowledge that they outnumber the OAMAM, and happy to give their last breath for the chance to bring health and happiness to those with enough inner strength left to still believe in themselves.  

"Wait," I implored the teacher at this point in the lesson. "This sounds more like an unselfish act than anything else. If I am to understand that through the luck of avoiding abuse in my life, I am considered one of the creatures worthy of having the the frightened WASAKAs tricked into killing me, why would my reaching out to those less fortunate be taken as selfish? Granted, had anyone mentioned that little thing about the harpoons earlier, we might not be having this conversation right now, but still ... " 

The old man paused until the echoes of my attempt at levity died down.

"Young man," he uttered solemnly, "This is not the time for jokes, it is a time of reflection. Yes, you were mortally wounded for a worthy cause, even if you were blind to what was to come. You ask how your action could be considered Selfish? And so, I ask you this: Who did you think you were talking to, when the arrows started to fly? Were you ever asked to intervene? Who, but yourself, gave you the mandate to save those that have no desire to be saved?"
 
He left me with one final Thought,

"I caution you: do not consider that you will ever attain sufficient enlightenment to be worthy of the return trip you seek, until you can grasp that doing what you perceive to be right does not mean you are not also acting out of selfishness. For it is through this behavior that the only thing you become worthy of receiving, is the cold, barbed point that has once already ended your days on Earth."