Zombies are as wildly popular today as they’ve ever been, permeating popular culture in many different forms of entertainment.
Yet another character in this never ending revolving door of distractions we so dully and dutifully consume as means to cope with our personal pains. This is not to say that entertainment is always used as cough syrup. This is not an article about denying oneself the pleasures of fiction - although there’s a wonderful practice of tuning oneself off from all forms of exterior input for 30 days which produces wonders. But this is neither the place nor the time.

{actually it’s always the place and the time to do anything that feels most relevant, so if 30 days without any noise resonates, and that includes the internet, turn off your screen and get to it, it will do more for you than any words you will read here or out there between now and 30 days from now}

This article is about zombies!(Or is it?) and the irony of using them as escapism, since as we run (in circles) away from our pains and pangs what we are really denying ourselves is the blissful pleasure of attuning ourselves to the energy of our own innermost core - our Inner Essence. The further we get from said essence - out into the perceived separation of the world of form, which we are in constant battle with and fear of – the sooner we get set on a pattern of preformed linear-thinking locked in system which seems pretty similar to auto-pilot - which is as good of an analogous to a zombie as they are to us. 
Drained of energy, content with base levels of survival – work, eat, masturbate, drive, enrich, shop, drink, fuck, sleep – and counting on “exterior” happenstance to get us out of our stupor, we give our free will completely to a set of predetermined conditions – which includes limiting belief systems, detrimental sets of agreements and misconceptions about life in general and our place in it – and are left with rare cases of illuminated joy when somehow our Inner Essence pierces through, but which we quickly reframe as some inspiration that “hit us” or attribute it to some exterior presence or circumstance as the catalyst for it. 
And when we bump into a self-realized person and get enough of our own essence shining through that we recognize theirs – for we can only perceive said energy if we are connected to some level of it ourselves – we may also dismiss it as some “innate power” that they have, and that we could never attain. I mean how could we? With all our limitations, and our history, and our pains, and our losses, and our stories, and our mortgage, and on and on and on… until we’ve driven ourselves so far out of alignment that we give our shot at life away to this interpretation - this well (ill really) conceived story of victimhood - which, as with everything else in our auto-pilot locked in system, we spit out whenever the chance arises. We justify our limitations, defending even, in lieu of seeing the sign, the symbol, of the self-realized person as a an opportunity to rise to the challenge of our own self-realization. And before we can count all our sorrows the self-realized person is gone from our lives, sometimes forever, repelled by our low vibrations and compelled toward their ever brighter inner light, leaving us stuck in our own feedback loop of suffer-complain-distract-sleep-repeat.

However the perceived difference between the Self-Realized person and the "zombie" is not some innate power that only the former possess. This “power” is equally distributed to all. It's not a power first off. It's a state of being. And it’s innate to all of us. We all come in to the world of form (from the quantum field of pure potentiality) as dynamos of high vibratory frequencies of joy and creativity, full of possibility and probability, potential not so much limited, but framed by our one true essence. 
Then here it comes the family structure (in whatever form) with their own set of limiting belief systems which is immediately dumped on us, with some of it already downloaded prior to arrival – Hurray biology and genetics! 

{One of the ways in which belief systems work their way through a family tree is they grow in intensity as they are “exercised”, much like a muscle the more we work on it (by way of reinforcing it through behavior), the more it develops, engorges and defines. The stronger those connections get (neurologically and thus biologically) , the higher the chance that those are the connections which are passed on to the child; couple that with the same belief systems being there upon arrival - in the case of the traditional genetically related family unity - and there’s no escaping mommy and daddy’s most prominent features. We get their strong work ethic and we get their "less-than-ideal" values they exercised just as strongly. Genetics and the Field interacting on the levels of prominence irrespective of the perceived positive or negative, for the all-encompassing soup of the quantum field - “there’s no good or bad, only thinking makes it so!”, or was that Shakespeare?}

Adding to that wonderful soup of conception + fostering is every agreement (more on agreements later, we’ve just come out of a set of braces and are now in a parenthesis and we all must get on with our lives, “Walking Dead” is on) we make in our socialization through every other institution and social structure we come into contact with, all these many interactions providing yet a few more opportunities for us to delineate a handful of limiting belief systems on our own, until finally all of the above systematically assembles itself into a semi-sentient being allocated in our subconscious mind affectionately called ‘Ego’. 
Ego (most call it The Ego, but we go way back) is of extreme service to our being and survival, and we will get back to praising it for its qualities at some point - gotta throw it a bone, it loves bones, as it’s like a dog, as a matter of fact it is just like a dog, a guide dog, if we lose our sight that dog becomes essential to our survival and going about, but never ever do we let that dog run all aspects of our lives, and so neither should we ever let ‘Ego’ get all egotistical about controlling our being... And it doesn’t actually - we let it! For here comes complacency, the mother of all inventions...of excuses and stories which we create as poor substitutes for doing the work, getting sharp with it, wanting our alignment more than we do bones, juice, sex and Zombieland reruns. All of those are completely fine once in alignment, especially bones. I mean sex! (Bones??? That was definitely my Ego talking).
Once we let Ego, which was built to be like a Project Manager (of very specific projects, mind you), step in as the CEO while our conscious mind gets busy with non-expansive activities best known as routine - routine is not bad because its dull, it’s bad because its dulling! - we are on our own decaying way. The less new neurological connections we make, the less engaged our conscious mind will be, it knows all this stuff, it can do it with its eyes closed, and so it eventually closes its eyes. Now we have our conscious mind on auto-pilot in front, and the auto-pilot of all auto -pilots, Ego the guiding dog, taking over as the de-facto CEO. And since Ego is very limited, in order to make sure its number one directive is observed – can’t let this whole operation crumble while it is CEO’ing – it kicks all protective sub-directives into high gear, all of our subconscious belief systems for preservation come online all at once, fear glandes get on stand by and the whole system, the proverbial “we” are only one free-of-free-will, emotionally-triggered, bad decision away from a worse one. But fear not (keep calm, pardon the pun) worst case scenarios are rare as this hyper alert system of fear, coupled with the comfortable bubble of routine, keep us “safe” for the most part, and so nothing of great consequence happens. Nothing. Of. Consequence. Happens... All is routine. Cruise control is on. We are going through life, surviving, but not really living. Only recognizing our default system in the odd moments when we bump our heads against the walls of our own self-constructed maze. Blessed are those bumps, bump long enough or hard enough and we just may wake up, realize the maze is of our doing, walking dead no more. And that's where things get interesting. Free of our auto-pilot, hand on the lever, complete control, now all that's left to find is where to go... 

There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to the truth; not going all the way, and not starting.
- Buddha