An allegory of conclusion

The Man in the Room

I don’t recall exactly when I learned a man was in the room. I’m sure someone told me.

For years, I watched as other people behaved as if they knew he was there. This was serious business. People (called martyrs) died because of this man. As a child, I never doubted what I was told about the man in the room. I not only believed he was there, I also knew a lot about him. He was old with a long gray beard, but handsome. He was quite distinguished and grandfatherly.

The man in the room was more important than anyone, even more than the President or the Pope. The President, and especially the Pope, also believed there was a man in the room. The Pope even had secrets that the man had entrusted to him. The man in the room was even more important than I was, or my parents, or any king.

Everything was about this man.

People wanted me to devote my life to the man in the room. We gave up things and made sacrifices either for him or to him. We did good things, like give money and stuff to the poor and needy because the man in the room wanted us to. The more we showed that we cared about the man, the better we were treated by our teachers, preachers, and parents.

The man in the room made the rules for everybody. He picked special adults and told them what the rules were for all of us. Everyone I knew agreed that there was a man in the room, and he was in charge forever. He was super powerful. He could do anything. He was in total control of everything. He could be invisible and even bring dead people to life.

He had always existed and always would.

Eventually, I learned that the man in the room made everything; even me, and you, and the Pope. I learned that he made me for a reason. I was to love and serve him and to do his will outside of the room. Everyone was. Even people who didn’t know it were supposed to serve him. That was my first world view, my purpose for being, but I didn’t fully realize it.

People would talk to the man in the room. Sometimes, they would ask for something. I was taught how to talk to him. I did this for a long time, but the man never talked back to me. Apparently, he only talked to certain people using his thoughts. That made sense. I sometimes asked the man for things. I was told he was always watching me, so I assumed that was why he never gave me anything I requested.

I knew people went into the room to see the man. One day, I decided to follow some people, hoping to see him. When I opened the door and stepped in, I saw no one, not even the people I had followed. It was an empty room and there was no man or any person to be seen. I wondered why I had seen no one else and why he apparently left the room as I entered. I had been assured that he always remained in the room.

I decided to find out why I had seen no one, especially not the man I was searching for. Since everyone was so positive about the man, I was sure that I had made some mistake.

After leaving the room by the only door, I decided to ask my mother why I had not seen the man. Mom got nervous and seemed upset. She told me to ask my father. I did. That was a mistake. Dad became angry and sent me to my room. He told me that next time he might beat some sense into me.

I decided to try a more neutral person.

I asked one of my teachers who I could trust if there was a reason that I couldn’t see the man. I could see her irritation, but she kindly explained to me that if I could not see the man, it meant that I did not believe strongly enough. I needed to have more faith. If I believed strongly enough, I would see the man.

As I asked others and I talked with friends, I realized that some people did not see the man either. A few of them never went into the room, or they denied any room existed. But they never told me that there was not a man to be seen. Most others told me that they did see the man. I was told that those of us who did not see the man were at fault. The issue was our lack of faith. And my lack of faith was evidenced by the fact that I asked too many questions and talked about it.

I thought the problem was clearly with me. I could see the room, but never saw the man. Others did. I needed more faith. I simply had to try harder.

If others could see him, why not me?

Years passed. I lived my life and almost forgot about the man. However, the man in the room issue never went away. I noticed that people began to assume I could see the man, just as they claimed. I stopped talking about him as though I could not see him. In a way, I lied by pretending.

For a while, I returned to the room often. I decided to ask a ‘man in the room’ expert if there was reason for my failure and if there was anything I could do. Again, the blindness was my doing. If I would believe more, I would see him. That still made sense to me.

I wondered how to have more faith.

Since I was certain that there was a man in the room, that it was my lack of faith that prevented me from seeing him, I decided to take even more drastic action.

I became a man in the room fanatic. I joined organizations. I took all the classes and attended all the learning groups I could find. My expertise allowed me to teach classes to both children and adults regarding the man in the room and the things they should do to be better followers. Eventually, I became a man in the room leader in a large and important relevant group.

I held firmly to the belief that there was a man in that room. Finally, one day I saw the room again. No one could have done more than I to be a true-blue follower, believer, and expert. I had not seen the room in years, but then one day there it was.

That was my moment, my time, my life-long goal of seeing the man was to be that day.

I proudly opened the door and triumphantly marched into the room, and there sitting in the chair in the corner was me as a child.

The child looked up and said, “I have been sitting here your entire life. I wanted nothing more than to meet the man in the room. For over 50 years, I have waited and searched, while you have worked and prayed and believed. But, look around. There is no man in this room and there never has been. I have gone to other rooms with the same discovery.”

I felt broken and deceived. I had wasted so much of my life hoping to see a man who never existed. Again, I walked out through the only door. When I looked back, the room was gone. I thought, and I wondered, and read and studied all the possibilities. I felt myself changing. I began to say negative things to people regarding what may be in the room.

I had lived most of my life with almost constant thought about the man in the room. Over many months I slowly became a person who openly expressed doubts.

Then one day a friend asked if I still believed that there was a man in the room.

I looked at my friend and said, “For more years than you have been on the earth I have searched for the man in the room. I did more than enough. I have decided that I was deceived. After a lifetime of trying to find a man, it is my conclusion that he does not exist and never has. The man is a myth and has always been.” I was relieved to know that I had finally found a truth that escapes so many.

One day, someone asked, “What is the point of you saying that there is no man in the room?”

I responded, “There is no room, only one told in stories. There is no man, invisible or otherwise. Too much life is wasted over nothing. Either there is man, or there isn’t. Faith is irrelevant. Belief does not make it so anymore than failure to believe makes it not so. It is reality based upon evidence.”

Another man overheard that comment. He approached me and said that I may not make such a statement if I have no proof that there is no man in the room. He said that I was asserting a fact that I could not prove. He wanted me to say that I believed that there is no man in the room.

I objected by claiming that I was asked a question (what is the point?) to which I provided my best answer. I postulated nothing. My answer to the question is not an affirmation that there is a man, but a admission that there is no evidence that there ever was a man in the room. Since he was not in the room when I looked, that was all the proof I needed. The fact that others believe there is a man in the room because someone told them has no bearing on reality. It only supports what they already believe.

My conclusion is different than their belief. No one ever told me that there was not a man, only that there was. When I tried to find the man, or to ask why I could not see him, no one said he was not there. They only told me that my inability to find him was my fault. I no longer believe what people told me. But since I did everything I could, and I did what they told me I must do, and I still did not find any evidence of the man, I concluded he does not exist.

One of the things that helped me with my conclusion is the story, and the resulting idiom, of The Emperor Has No Clothes. I should have known from the beginning that there was no man to see because I could not see him. That should have ended it. But I did not want to accept that people were telling me the same lies they had been told.

Almost everyone I knew insisted that I was wrong. When I realized that the Emperor was naked, I knew why I wanted there to be a man in the room. I wanted there to be a man, and I wanted him to be as I was told he was. I wanted to be like most people. I’m not.

Now, I know the truth. I need no proof of what does not exist.

©Bill Reynolds, 11/12/2018

Look both ways. Look again, and again, and ….
Mind the gaps dearly, they may hide truth.

The Emperor Believed.



25 thoughts on “An allegory of conclusion

  1. Nicely written. Somehow I got lucky…not raised in a religious atmosphere, I always knew their was no man in the room..ever. Still amazes me so many look outside when it is within…all the good things and the bad things. It’s a choice.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. You are correct. Your experience has given you more insight, I’m sure. I just meant I never had to endure angst because of family or friends

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Actually, Bill, when you entered the room the second time, and saw the child that had been you, there was a man in the room, though you could not see him.
    YOU were the man in the room. Similarly, all those times you talked to him, and he did not answer, it was because you were talking to yourself, and there was no need to answer. You knew you already knew the answers. The evidence was there all the time, you just didn’t understand why you could not see yourself! Instead of looking inward, you were looking outward. And looking outward, you were invisible to your own eyes. But now you know. The room is not empty–you are the man in the room.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. Great post
    The still small voice that spoke in your head was not the voice of the man in the room but your own voice
    When good things happened to you it was probably you or someone else ( a human someone else ) doing and not the man in the room blessing you


  4. This is an extraordinary piece, Bill. Some of your finest work. Your talent as a writer shines through in this spiritual journey of a young boy becoming a man in search of his own truth. Bravo, my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Bill, this was an excellent, provocative read. Well done Sir. Actually, I must seriously consider using my very rarely volunteered word: exquisite. I don’t liberally toss it out, but I think this read is deserving. 🙂

    Such a natural progression of pure, simple logic and cognition… EQUITABLY applied Sir. Really. I’m not pulling your leg. Geeezzz, I think now I’m going to have to Follow your blog too. 😉 😛

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks. But that was before I started my “Dispassionate Doubt” blog, which is more for that kind of subject matter. After your kind words, I need to go put my head in vice to get it back to size. Thank you very kindly.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. 😄 Well, after reading the post it reminded me of my natural progression of (blindly?) willingly and wholeheartedly going thru those doors I opened—no one else did it for me—and rooms over 11-years.

        The final straw for me was (quite ironically) Yeshua/Jesus disappearing (with absolutely no trace and never wanting to open the door) for 17-years as THE Son of God emboldened with all sorts of extraordinary powers that he and the Almighty just decide to go dormant—for what possible reason?—for 17 critical years in that time-period. What did 17 lost years of absolutely nothing… accomplish for an eventual Roman Empire conquering via the Roman Catholic Church?

        Anyway, welcome back Bill to the more realistic, level-headed, scientific, open-minded part of humanity that simply wants the best for Earth and everyone living on it… without all the exclusivity, inequality, and violence the Abrahamic religions have wrought upon Earth and its living creatures. We are SO passed the need/time to rid ourselves of antiquated paradigms of existence and DEAL with proven modern scientific and cognitive methods right in our face with a thriving life forward, generation to generation, on a Pale Blue-dot that exists in an ever changing, fluid, Solar System and Cosmos.

        No, no, and again no… we do NOT need any mythical, unseen, fairy-tale Force offer a scam of Salvation to an ignorant bunch who blindly accept that an End or an Armageddon will exterminate life as we know it. There’s only two ways that happens:

        1) In about 7.6 billion years our Sun becomes a Red Giant (dying) and consumes all of the inner planets. Hey! We have a pretty good chance to be way gone by then! Duh.

        2) We exterminate ourselves by doing NOTHING about Climate Change, biological threats, or enormous asteroid strikes, like what wiped out the dinosaurs.

        Have I forgotten anything else we already know WILL eventually happen in the near, mid-, and distant future to wipeout humanity? Did I miss one or two? Anyone? 😉

        Liked by 1 person

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