The Outdated Show

Metaphorical Narrative

Imagine standing in a dark theatre long after the play has ended. The curtains hang heavy, the seats are empty, the stage dusty. Yet from the shadows, a faint voice echoes: “What about them?”

You look around—there is no audience, no actors, no script. Just the stale smell of smoke and dust from a performance that ended years ago. The ego is running reruns, recycling lines from a play that no longer exists. It tries to trick you into believing the ghosts still matter. But you know better—this theatre is outdated to hell.

So you call in the garbage truck 🛻, haul away the stage, and toss it all into the burn pile 🔥. No mercy. The theatre collapses into ash.

And in the silence that follows, freedom finally breathes.

Core Insight

Ego’s new trick is to disguise the old voices as your own: “It’s you thinking this.” But the content is unchanged—bondage, cage, fear.

The question “What about them?” has no power anymore, because “them” no longer exists in your reality. The script is outdated, the theatre closed. Every recycled thought deserves the same treatment: garbage truck → burn pile → ash.

Freedom doesn’t negotiate with reruns.

Saturday Experiment

1. Spot the rerun. When the phrase “what about them?” or anything like it surfaces, pause.
2. Label it expired. Whisper: “This is outdated theatre.”
3. Burn it instantly. Visualize garbage truck 🛻 hauling it away, burn pile 🔥 reducing it to nothing.

Sunday Reflection

Write in third person:

• When the outdated theatre replays for him/her, what does it feel like in the body?
• How does he/she respond now that the stage and actors are gone?
• What replaces the silence when the ego’s show is burned?