Dancing with the crowd

So, I am reading this book about the life in former Yugoslavia under the regime of Josip Broz. The story acts like a time-space travel machine, transporting me into the homeland nested in the Balkan peninsula and the childhood of a naive little pioneer, enthusiastically waving her little hand at the white-clothed object of her worship passing by in a luxurious limousine. Layer by layer, the countless deceptions are being peeled away before my eyes as I devour page after page of this documentary portrayal of, in so many ways, my own life also. I feel so stupid for being so naive, so unquestioningly obedient in playing my own little part in somebody else's grand scale charade. Of course, the time and the distance, the years and maturity, and ultimately my own personal encounter with the Truth give me the courage to face the lie and acknowledge that I too was shamelessly fooled, just like almost everyone else.

But, then, suddenly another layer appears, catapulting me into to the present - the here and the now - and asks the same question: Whose charade am I unwittingly playing my little part here, now? If I allow for the distance of time (or rather, eternity) to set me on a more objective ground, and looking back to my life right now, will I feel as ashamed and stupid for being so naive today in unquestioningly following the cultural and social cues, the modern day religious "in" crowd, playing my little part in somebody else's grand charade? Or do I look to my cues to Somebody else, even if it means I dance alone, looking very much like a lonely fool today, but, later, maybe... not so foolish in the end.