Devil’s kitchen
Devil’s Kitchen is a geological feature in Sedona so-named because a meteorite containing “magic” mushrooms that could survive in the vacuum of space and were infused with the DNA of ancient aliens landed there tens of thousands of years ago, and the devil—so the legend goes—fed the mushrooms to our prehistoric ancestors, unlocking consciousness in our species. I can’t back any of that rubbish up—but I do believe something like that happened somewhere in the world.
One day, my dear friend bit into an apple, and it occurred to her that when the devil offered humans the fruit of knowledge, what he actually gifted us was the God-like power to create. I think she’s onto something.
Before humans could create, the quality of our species’ collective consciousness was much dimmer than it is now, not much brighter than a beast’s. We didn’t even know we were naked, and worshipped God as the sole Creator, master of all. The spark of creativity changed the rules. Now, we had imagination, invention, and the freedom to shape reality. We became co-authors of our own destiny.
Of course, everything has a flip side. The same creative power that birthed art, medicine, and music also spawned pride, greed, and clever ways to harm. That’s why the devil gets a bad rap: he gave us a powerful tool, and we often use it to harm instead of to heal.
Creativity, as my wise friend says, always carries ego because it’s an expression of self. When the ego drives our engagement with the world, it ejects us from the only place that reliably heals — the present moment.
Creation requires planning, which invites thinking about the future. When the ego runs the planning, our minds fixate on potential outcomes and possibilities that haven’t happened yet, which leads to anxiety. When our creations don’t work out, the ego rewinds what went wrong, replaying the past until regret and depression take hold.
These egoic patterns shaped our species’ collective psyche over generations into mass psychological dysfunction. We create societies that reward short-term advantage and status, and structures that magnify scarcity and fear. The result: a species brilliant at making tools and lousy at staying sane.
Humanity’s current course is unsustainable, and dysfunction is accelerating. We must rapidly evolve the quality of our collective consciousness or go extinct.
Here’s the irony: the very faculty that helped unravel us—the power to create—is also our salvation. Free will lets us create heaven on earth.
We’ll heal scarcity, invent systems that distribute resources more fairly, and cultivate social practices that reward cooperation. Imagination coupled with discipline is intentional evolution, the engine that will drive the New Earth.
Each of us must do our part to meet this existential challenge.
Where do we begin? With the first and most important step in personal spiritual evolution: consciously choosing to be more conscious. It’s easy to do, and we can start anywhere, even with a piece of fruit like the one the devil offered us in the first place.
The next time you eat a piece of fruit, consciously slow down. Thank it for its sustenance. Taste its texture and savor every bite. If it’s the right piece, you might just find your lips curling into a devilish grin.
