Quiet Answer

Problem?
Try silence as the solution.

Silent mouth.
Silent movement.
Silent mind.

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Wind and Waves

Believing that I’m a single perspective of an infinite being means that arguing has become pointless — I’m really only bickering with myself — what’s the point. Now when argumentative opponents present themselves in my head, I don’t engage. It’s nonsense that I don’t need. I’ve stopped wrestling with paper tigers of my own design.

Minds don’t need to be changed, people are just players in a grand narrative. But it’s dreamlike in that my mind will see what it wants, forming patterns to fit my interpretation. If I want a fight, I’ll find it. If I foretell a bad-day, I’ll have it. If I truly seek the calm seas then my mind must be stilled first.

Child at Play

A child at play perfectly encapsulates the experience of existence. No supernatural understanding is necessary to see the compartmentalized minds of characters engaged in a world of pretend. Panda acts autonomously, not knowing what’s wrong with crying Kitty, yet deep down Panda does know what’s wrong since they share a puppeteer.

While in-character we suspend belief. Yet answers to problems come readily because we already know them. Creativity flows from a singular source. We even witness miraculous circumstances manifesting before our eyes as the puppeteer strives to fulfill a particular narrative. No Panda, you belong over here. Kitty, let’s forget about the problem you had, you’re now a doctor.

But mind you, we are not at the mercy of some childish brute banging toys together, we are the child — a trinity of author, actor, and audience. Just as a child effortlessly maintains different planes of awareness for each character, we too perceive different levels. Yet we are most often lost in life, playing our character with full devotion.

If at any time we frighten ourselves from the intensity of our dedication, we can remember it’s only a benevolent game. It’s possible to perceive the puppeteer pulling the strings. With a still mind, quietly observing, we can realize our roots. We can know the purpose of our play is to have fun — focusing on whatever evokes delight while living life lightheartedly.

Shining Through

Jagged edges distort my view,
so I polish the roughness with repetition.
The more I shine, the more light beams through.

I see my source, the designer within —
a creator playing amongst pieces of myself.
Power surges from frequent realization.

What a marvelous world I’ve made,
a playground given to me by me.
Nothing is, but what I willed it to be.

Self-imposed fog keeps me blinded,
my roots tucked below a superficial surface.
While performing in character, I readily forget.

Upon stilling my mind, I remember —
I am no mere pawn to be played, but the programmer.
I only realize when I pause to perceive.

There is no frailty ‘cept that which I playfully portray.
I am the definer of strength — both author and audience.
Swimming amidst shallows, I need only stand.

Power Story

What is your power story? You, described in a way that evokes a feeling of powerfulness. You, while free of fear or frustration, brave, unflinching, an unstoppable force.

Alone atop a self-made world, an infinite being sat. For the fun of it, he split himself into near-infinite shards, each one reflecting a differing perspective within the world he created.

I am one such perspective. The broken piece which is my character reflects my point of view. Jagged edges and pitted surface serve to distort the image I perceive.

But I’ve been polishing the marred mirror which is me. And the more I shine, the brighter I become. Not only can I see the light which lies before me, but its underlying origin, the source from which I came.

My power therefore stems from the ever increasing duration and frequency of this realization – that I am the creator playing amongst the various sections of myself. There really is no physical me, only the illusion of such.

And being that creator, I can stand back and appreciate my handiwork. What a marvelous world I’ve made – a playground for the pieces of me. With this understanding I can only laugh at the silly things I’ve made.

Nothing is but what I willed it to be. Yet I purposely tricked myself by hiding roots beneath a mirage. And by simply engaging with life, I can readily forget myself and perform as the character I resemble.

But when I still my mind, looking within – there I am, the creator within. I am not a mere pawn to be played, but the programmer himself, so skilled I can only realize this when I pause to perceive it.

From this foundation, life is a funhouse – a gift given to me by me for my own amusement. I am both appreciative and proud. There is no weakness ‘cept that which I playfully portray. I am the definer of strength itself.

This is my story of power, my narrative to silence fear and frailty. Should I ever feel fearful or frail, I need only remember my origin as builder of worlds – a blend of art and artist, author and audience. Swimming amidst shallows I need only stand.

Come to Light

Sit back, relax, lose all focus of self.
Pixels mixing, forget borders existing.
Particles deconstructing, blending as one.
Flowing through space occupied by all.
Drifting upon warmth of light from golden hues.
Witnessing the illusion of a sparkling spectacle.
A sight that never was but always is — a fiction.
Embrace a show acted out by its audience.
Focusing on whatever pleases, ignoring the rest.
Striving to stay the path that excites delight.
Breathe away the solidity of self, in, out.
Revealing the truth of an existential funhouse.

Lost to Thought

I enjoy getting lost in thought and often seek to do so. But I used to follow any stimulating idea that crossed my mind — I’d go down gloomy labyrinths fraught with thoughts of doom. And that was a mistake of course, as it led me down too many dank alleyways awash with sewer that stuck even upon exit. You don’t eat something just because it’s on your plate do you? No, rotten food should be discarded — and it’s the same with rotten ideas.

Rotten thoughts are those that poison the mind — not only are they initially unpleasant but their effects linger long after the introduction. When they knock, it’s our job not to invite them in — no matter how persistent they may be. It’s a skill to block thought though — but it’s an ability we can practice and improve upon. For instance, we have to regularly poll our emotional state: How am I feeling? Good? Good. How am I feeling? Sad.. scared.. seething..? ALERT! ALERT! ALERT!

Sir! We have a situation. All indications are that we’re currently experiencing emotional distress.

All stations CODE RED! I repeat, all stations CODE RED! Shut this down immediately! DO IT! GO! GO! GO! This must be contained, or it could blow at any minute!

Sir! We’ve successfully ceased all physical and mental activity, we’ve gone into meditative mode and we’re quietly waiting out the shockwave.

Sir! I’m proud to report that there have only been minor leaks to the outside — nothing unmanageable. Residual aftershocks are being dealt with as they roll in and the initial cause for upsetness has been defused through a reset in perspective.

How am I feeling? Good? Good.

Eventually, the process of recognizing and rebuffing unconstructive thoughts becomes more automatic. And instead of periodic polling, we can use the heightened emotions themselves to trigger a recognition response, effortlessly setting the whole deactivation sequence in motion.

So it’s rare that I get completely lost within my thoughts anymore. I’ll certainly wander without knowing where I’m going, but my sense of direction is better, I can tell where home is, and I’m more street-savvy, knowing which avenues to avoid.