I’ve been told there are two lives you can select from. One is self-directed by the mind and its many thoughts. The other is an elaborately crafted grand-narrative directed by life itself.
The first one is typically chosen by those afraid of what life has to offer. And perhaps they’re a bit boring in their tastes and don’t want to participate in an awe-inspiring adventure. The problem with this route though, is the mind isn’t the best storyteller and comes up with weak storylines and lame tangents. The mind also tends to rely on cheap-tricks like jump-scares and cliches. And of course the story won’t contain any amazement since the mind is both author and audience — it knows what’s going to happen after all.
The second one takes consent and trust, a leap of faith. Do you dare let life take you on a roller-coaster ride? Where will it take you? Which characters will come and go? Who will you be? What will you have to do to play-out your role? When is the next thrilling drop? Oh boy, it’s making me sweat just thinking about it. Obviously you can tell which life I chose.
But if you do select the self-directed path, life is more than willing to fill in any blanks or even take-over at any point. If you simply surrender your control, life will continue from there, crafting a tale to delight and amuse. And of course you can retake the reins and go back to a stinted and somewhat suffocating story of your own — if that’s what you really want.