A cheeky thought flickers across my brow…
“I wonder what “X” would think if I actually managed to pull this off—I mean if I really did it!
If I manifest this insane dream in my heart…”
She would probably pass out. I would probably pass out!
Because, well… I’ve been threatening it for so long.
And nobody really expects anyone to possess that much magic…
To be that powerful…
To actually learn how to get out of their head and into
– REAL life
– The Tangible,
– Tactile
– Physical Habits & Actions
– Practical shifts finally turning vision boards into reality.
I know I’m not the only one who has lost decades cooking up wild stories about how “some people” are just super talented,
Or naturally disciplined…
Or lucky to be born into a wealthy family.
You know – pretty much any traits that will create otherness and separation
And internal paralysis that glues us to our utter refusal to change.
Nobody actually enjoys transformation.
We tell ourselves that we do.
We say we ache for it more than anything…
We cry about it and froth about…
But truly, the tiniest inconvenience sends us into a tailspin.
Our unconscious limiter starts triggering danger signals, and we, without even pausing to reason, back out and bounce straight back to “normal”…
To “Whew! This feels better, THIS is me!”
Never knowing what might have happened if we turned the corner..
Stepped in a little deeper..
Asked a different question..
Or maybe, just stood there and waited for the panic to subside.
Recalibration is the real heavy lifting.
Who wants to spend time thinking through… observing and deleting old, outdated programs that have been running their entire lives?
Nobody. Not one single soul.
Not even me.
But my dreams are pounding at my chest.
Wiped out from a lifetime of dead ends and disappointments.
My STORIES are monsters.
Indifferent, calculating Saboteurs;
Trained, beefy Navy Seals who have been studying me from birth.
It matters not to them that we’ve lost our way.
They have no interest in what lights me up inside.
Their goal is obsessive and simple: To keep me “safe”
Agonisingly long after the danger has passed.
And I, the mightiest being in my universe…
Sit quietly, sanctioning their mass destruction.
Pretending not to see.
Pretending not to know.
Pretending that I am powerless and don’t know how this coup came to be.
When really, I was the one.
I handed over the keys to my kingdom.
I put myself on mute.
“I’m just soooo busy…”
“Life is so hectic… I don’t have time to attend to that.”
Spinning excuses for anyone who dares to ask.
When really…
I am too terrified to see.
To turn around and take stock of how Sabotage and Stories have been ruling my world.. destroying my legacy.
My heart,
Quarantined for decades in my chest,
My gut… in an irritable twist,
Because they know…
That the only way to freedom
Is to turn and face the truth.
That I know
Exactly, precisely how I got here
And Why…
Or even worse.. That I might just know exactly precisely
How to get out.
