Facial (F2R)

Joe, feeling very apprehensive, nervous and jittery, sat on the chair. This was his fourth interview this week and, if he were being honest, he was actually doing better than his friends to even be considered for an interview with Form.inc.

He was excited, despite all the emotions flowing around his body and mind but, as his mother always used to say, ‘You’ll either succeed, or try and try again’. Her wise words echoed through his mind as Peter, his interviewer, arrived with a smile.

“Good morning,” said Peter, whilst pausing to look at the computer screen, finding the interviewee’s name, “Joe. How are you today?”

Joe cleared his throat slightly, returning Peter’s smile, “I’m okay today, thank you for asking!”

Peter nodded, glancing at Joe, before returning his gaze to the screen in front of both of them. A few seconds ticked away, as the silence permeated the room.

“Okay, Joe, this won’t take long. All I’d like you to do is stand over in the right corner and look at the blank dark square embedded into the wall.”

“Okay, thank you!” replied Joe, as he chastised himself, asking his mind to stop saying, ‘thank you’. He stood, nervously, placing his folder onto the now vacant chair. He walked across to the far wall, praying that he didn’t slip upon an imaginary banana, a sudden pool of liquid, or that his legs magically decided to fly him out of the room by his feet. He wanted to laugh at the thoughts, but his emotions were smashing into his chest.

He looked at the wall, standing directly in front of the dark square. From within the panel, he could see a selection of lights. All at once, his face appeared upon the screen as a wide selection of dots. A near replica, formed of his facial features. A few further seconds escaped, as an intense white light appeared, shining into his eyes. He blinked, a few times, but then as his eyes grew accustomed to the light, he settled and calmed himself.

Eventually, the word, ‘complete’, appeared upon the screen and Joe glanced towards Peter.

“You can sit back down now, Joe.”

Joe walked back to his seat, removing the folder to sit down once again. The two of them remained silent, as Peter pressed a few buttons on the keyboard. A furrowed look appeared upon Peter’s forehead, as Joe watched Peter’s eyes dotting around the screen, obviously reading something from the test he’d just undertaken.

Peter finished reading, turned his head to Joe and smiled. “Joe, I’ve had the results of the scan and,” Joe braced himself for the result, “I’m afraid that we cannot offer you the position at this present time.”

Joe felt his heart sink into his chest but, as quickly as the feelings emerged, he heard his mother’s voice and he immediately accepted the decision.

“Could I possibly ask for some constructive feedback, as I have the correct qualifications, so any wise words might help with my next interview?” he asked with sincerity.

“Basically, Joe, your face wouldn’t fit within the company. That’s it. Thank you for your time!”

Joe, marginally shocked, stood as Peter left his chair, “If you’d like to make your way out of the building, we’ll send you a letter and you never know, if your face changes, please feel free to try again.”

Click to Listen (will add later) 

Grounded (F2R)

Huang opened the door, just a little, worried about who was standing on the other side. The person nodded, as he raised the four-litre box. Huang’s eyebrows raised, the jubilation and surprise simply written across his entire face. He’d waited five months for this very moment and, right now, he wasted no time as he flung open the door. He nodded twice, taking the box from the delivery person who, immediately, walked away from the him.

The door closed behind him, as Huang ran into his front room. The surprise, still obvious to anyone within close distance, despite Huang being home alone. He giggled like a child, as he darted from the room, to root through his kitchen cupboards for a suitable container.

All at once, he found a baking tray with raised edges. Realising that he’d found the near ideal item, he placed it onto the floor and stepped onto the tray. His feet fit and that, to Huang, was absolutely perfect.

He scooped up the tray, from the floor, running back into his front room. Slowing, he realised that he needed to place himself into the present moment. He needed to relax, to become a reflection of his inner self. He placed the tray onto the floor, just in front of the large window. As he stepped over the tray, approaching the window, he looked out and down upon the earth before him. The ground, scorched many, many years previously, the planet more of less deceased in all but the word.

He glanced across at the rows of other houses, all perfectly positioned in a line, with the raised foot ways and paths suspended as far above from the surface as possible. He, along with the other millions of people, lived within the space of air. The surface, the ground, all but gone and unliveable.

He’d feel sad, but this is what he’d known all his life. Suspended, floating, trying to reach the remaining sunshine to keep all of them alive.

His breathing slowed, as he found his calm, his sanity and resolve. Turning, he walked over to the box. Carefully, he removed the tape and, with equal care, tipped some of the contents into the baking tray. Levelling off the surface, his hand suddenly stopped, feeling the texture of the particles underneath his hand. They used to call the substance earth, soil, the brown, life giving mud once added to water.

He'd never felt something so wonderful, so delicate, despite the substance being so easy to move with his hand. He snapped out of his wonder, standing, moving his frame behind the tray as he faced the window.

He slowed his breathing, as described upon the old scriptures of soul efficiency. Apparently, he had to reach such a relaxed state that even the world ending would hardly even make a sound to his ears, unless, of course, he was listening for the moment to take place.

Breathing in, holding, then exhaling, he stepped forward. His bare feet touched the earth. Pressing down ever so slightly, moving his feet ever so gradually, side to side, he rooted himself to the earth and started the process.

Instinctively, his focus turned to his feet but, as he knew, he realistically had no idea what he was doing. He’d realised, from the very second he’d read the words, that something wasn’t quite right and, even all the way up in the sky, all he wanted for his life was to somehow become rooted. Today, of all days, he would accomplish that wish, despite the cost, the trouble and, above all, the fact that earth was outlawed.  Today, was the day he’d finally started his journey to becoming grounded.

Faults (F2R)

Sandra, leaning against the counter, continued to chew a small little bit of vegetable that had somehow managed to appear from somewhere between her teeth. A small little varmint, illusive, despite her chomping teeth trying to end the event.

“Hello!” said a voice from her side. She jumped a little, startled, realising that she’d been paying far too much attention to the contents of her mouth.

“Hello Sir, how are you today?” she replied, with a very large smile.

“I’m not okay, but I will be eventually!”

Sandra’s smile vanished as her face changed to visible concern, “Oh no, let’s see if we can resolve your situation as soon as possible. Please, take a seat.”

She gesticulated towards a chair over in the corner of the store. As they both walked across the room, Sandra continued her usual dialog, “What’s your name?” she asked, as he sat.

“Joe!”

“Okay Joe, tell me absolutely everything.”

It was this part of her job that she found interesting, un-nerving, sometimes disturbing and, often, a shame. Mostly, she heard the same stories over and over again, the same said issues of life. Hopefully, Joe would be different.

Joe, furrowing his nose a little, looked down at his hands that were sat upon his lap. Tears started to form within his eyes, as he started his individual story.

“I want to be a better person. I have issues. Some silly, nothing to write home about or really complain to anyone, but I just want to change!”

Sandra, knowing that this wouldn’t be any more exciting than a ham sandwich upon a sun filled day, asked the usual question.

“What would you like to change?”

“I want to be fashionable. I want to change my diet. I just want the confidence to be popular!”

The moment Joe finished speaking, she remained tight lipped. She wanted to tell him, to tell all of them, to do the work. The difficult work. The inner work that no-one seemed to do anymore. No quick fixes, the embracement of struggle, maximum development as a person, the tears and crying of a heart and soul breaking were, of course, worth the struggle and sacrifice. He’d become stronger, he’d survive life’s strife and tribulations and, most of all, be able to stand on his own two feet. Improving and finding an inner balance was, above all, critical for each and every single person.

Instead of speaking, she smiled. She pushed aside the thoughts of Joe becoming more than he’d ever be. Rooted. Connected. His frequency amplified and, more than likely, finding the root of his ‘real’ issues. Heck, finding his prana would be a start. 

“Okay, Joe, I have the perfect option for you. It’s our extra special ‘confidence pack’, level two, as we want to make sure that you get the full benefit!”

Joe, looking up at Sandra, smiled a heavy, sodden filled smile. She knew that he just wanted whatever was going on within his thoughts to end, as soon as possible. Maybe it was for the best, the best for Joe and, who was she to think otherwise.

“How much would that cost?” he asked, his smile showing hope of sanctuary and a respite from his thinking mind.

Sandra, pausing to build tension and worth, replied, “That would be eight hundred and forty-nine pounds.”

Joe nodded, holding up his wrist bank device. Sandra pressed her wrist bank to his, with the triple beeps clarifying the completed sale

“Okay, Joe, please press your crown, the back of your head, to the seat!”

As Joe relaxed his head, applying his crown, two green lights appeared. Sandra knew that this meant a connection to the Sahasrara was completed. From there, she now had access to the other six important systems of Joe’s body. She found it odd that, after the many thousands of years, the basic teachings of spirituality had it all correct from the start. It all drummed down to simply improving the bodies energy flow. Be it spiritual, logical, physical or other, it was all there for everyone to see.

She finally gave in to her inner thoughts. “Joe, are you sure?” she asked with a tentative voice, “once you do this, there’s no going back and you’ll miss your chance to improve naturally?”

Joe shook his head which, frankly, did not shock Sandra at all. The quick fix. The lack of a fight. The frailty and fear of having to make and accept lifelong changes. The thought of months of progression, change and fulfilment meant nothing to a generation raised upon mobile devices, quick fixes and dopamine enhancement.

She pressed the third button and, within an instant, Joe winced ever so slightly. Eventually, the third button turned to green. The sequence, complete, the moment, done.

“How do you feel?” she asked, knowing the answer.

Joe, blinking around ten times, shook his head a little, as he looked at what he was wearing. He raised his arms, the disgust written across his face, “What on earth am I wearing? It’s awful! Isn’t this awful?”

Sandra smiled, shrugging her shoulders, understanding that she had now enabled Joe to be the exact same person as the hundreds upon thousands of previous participants. Joe jumped up from the chair, saluted Sandra, then walked out of the store.

She shook her head slightly. She’d give anything  for a man that would own his issues, resolve them and, basically, own their own faults.

Healing (F2R)

“Welcome, one and all. Welcome to the start of your journey!”

Master Ken-zee, placing one foot directly in front of the other, ever so slowly walked across the small stage. Little by little, every single thought, expression, permitted and embraced with little to no thought, his very breath, his breathing, guiding him forward to his unknown destination. Although he only had a small stage to walk across, the implication of knowing the journey, yet discovering and taking the journey, where two entirely different notions.

To his side, sat twenty new people. Adventurers, life escapees, the forgotten or, especially important, the few that realised the futility of the normal life they lived. Each of them, special, all of them, gifted, yet missing something within themselves that could not be found from external, habitual habits.

Master K, obviously feeling their energy as he moved, kept his energy to himself, his aura close, encapsulating his thoughts as close to his heart, soul and mind as he could. He wouldn’t wish to scare anyone away, especially as they’d travelled far and wide to be here. Some things, once supposedly enlightened, could wait.

He reached the end of the stage, taking a total of twelve tightly formed footsteps, which barely used any energy at all. The journey, complete, with each second enjoyed. He turned to face them, widening his gaze, taking in the many faces, forms and expressions. There were unbelievers, there were vagabonds, truth tellers, fiction finders and lost hearts amongst the group. He smiled, nodded, then embraced their hearts with words.

“What do you believe?” he asked, with a curious tone to his voice.

A man, sat at the front, wearing a business suit and sunglasses, despite the shade, shrugged his shoulders. A small voice, from behind, decided to reply, “I believe that anything I know could be false as anything we understand could be wrong!”

“Good, good! The ego within wants us to believe everything we know. We couldn’t possibly be wrong!” exclaimed Master K, appreciating an understanding voice. Each of them, more than likely, felt the same, but decades of learned behaviour, subliminal messaging and blind unfaltering dedication to governments, companies and beliefs, often shrouded the truth in darkness.

“What I believe, which could also be false,” continued Master K, “Is that what we believe ‘is’ the truth. It is the truth of another person, who heard the truth from another person, who was taught that truth from another person. A family member, a teacher, a lover or even a supposed wise man wearing a bed sheet!”

The people sat in front of Master K laughed, especially seeing as he was wearing an outfit which suspiciously looked like a bedsheet. Master K, stepping down from the small stage, picked up a plastic bag from a chair just to the side. He unfolded the bag, jolted it into the air in order to open the inside, then approached the first person to the right of him.

“I would like you to be free, while you’re here. No electronic devices. No memorabilia of your current life. No jewels, no trinkets, no keepsakes, absolutely nothing that reminds each of you of whom or what you were before you arrived here!”

The participants looked at each other, slightly confused, but understanding seeing as this was the type of function that they’d envisioned when signing the documents. One by one, they placed their precious items into the bag until they’d all finished.

“Now,” continued Master K, “let us remember that while you are here, your body will heal. There’s no wireless. No television, no radio, no 4000g, no internet, not even a coffee machine for when you wake in the morning. We have oats. We have milk. We have fresh produce and we are all fully natural!”

“Can I go home?” asked the businessman, with a slight laugh and smirk across his face.

“Yes, you can, if you feel like navigating ten miles of jungle, on your own. But other than that, you’re free to stay.” At the reply, the man shut his mouth, folding his arms to remain quiet.

“You see, you were all chosen, after being tested, for something quite rare.”

The guests looked at each other, ever so slightly confused.

“You would all be dead within a year, if it were not for this place.”

The grumbling and vocal murmurs escaped from each of them, the shock and disbelief obvious upon their faces.

“Yes, you might be in a quandary right now, but your lives are busy, full, dull, boring, filled with quick fixes, easy solutions and late nights. Each of your bodies had reached the pinnacle of healing and then, the only way would be down from there.”

They continued to look confused, stunned, but silent, hanging on to Master K’s words.

“You are all magnetic, you all hold so much energy within you, but instead of fixing yourselves, you have chosen to live your lives without abundance, the abundance of the soul, of peace, the quiet of a heart not conflicted and suffering. The never-ending days. The lonely nights. The obedience to turn yourselves into slaves of repetitive suffering. Your bodies have a breaking point. Let me ask you a question…”

Each of the guests nodded, staying silent, each knowing that the words spoken before them to be true.

“How did you feel once you arrived here? Did you appreciate the clean air, the pure water, the fact that the very molecules of your body felt a certain peace, that you’ve not felt since being a young child?”

Each of them, ever so slightly perplexed, nodded slowly. Almost transfixed, more or less fully engaged, with the truth in front of them.

“Why?” asked a small man sat in the middle of the group.

“Why…” replied Master K, “is a good question. We all need peace. Be it a silent room. A quiet thought. The hand of another. The kiss of a loved one. The embrace of a friend. The solitude of reflection of the frequency of nothing at all. If we fill our lives expecting everything to be perfectly fine, then when do we stop? If we ask, ‘is this all there is to life’, yet take no action to realise that life is what we make of it, then yes, this will be all there is to life!”

Master K knew that this was the very tip of the iceberg. The small flare from the sun. The momentary strand of cotton that led to the most beautifully crafted garment one could find. The warmth, the embedded emotional stability, the freedom of a very soul.

“Each of you, during the next four weeks, will abandon the ideals that you have vehemently, knowingly, held onto for most of your lives After those weeks, you can stay for a further four weeks or, even longer. The choice is yours.”

Master K, turned, then walked back to the stage. He stepped up and faced them.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Various replies returned to his ears, with most of them blindly accepting what he’d just informed them. There would be, as always, sceptics amongst them, but nothing over the four weeks would be rocket science. Instead, he would prefer to demonstrate.

Master K concentrated, knowing that the energy within the room was limited. Without radio waves, wireless, mobile devices, Bluetooth or anything electrical, the only energy to be felt would be soul energy, the aura or, even, the electrical impulses from his mind or the very earth underneath his feet.

All at once, he expanded his energy to cover all of the participants. “How do you feel now?”

Each of them opened their mouths, the expressions a near work of art, as each of them felt the warmth of the person speaking to them. He felt no fear, no nerves, only love and attention.

“There is an infinite vastness within each of us. Have you ever noticed that when a person enters the room, angry, or upset, the negative energy travels far and wide and yet, when you try to explain this to people, they gesticulate and dismiss the very notion that we are filled with energy and can influence each other?”

Most of them nodded in agreement.

“Well then, let us begin. Let us begin to embrace the one hundred and fourteen chakras. Let us find our soul, while allowing our bodies the wealth of the spirit. Let us begin with this thing called healing!”

 Click to Listen

Assimilation (F2R)

Emma, sat at the table, leaned towards the screen, “Start dictation!” she stated, knowing what she would shortly witness.

If you’re reading or listening to this, then at least my words have reached a new type of person. Then again, we never really knew what you were, other than the fact that we had to realise that we’ve had our time. We still don’t know how you arrived here, only that you spread faster than anyone could actually foresee.

The human race had reached eight billion souls. We were, frankly, running out of things to keep us busy. We were rats in a maze, floundering from one device, to another, most of us caught within a catatonic state of never-ending quick fixes.

Something had to change. It did. Be it a spore, a virus, a lab leak or just a natural evolution of the species, but we changed and we changed fast once infected. Try as we might, nothing was going to stop the spread. From a few hundred, to a few thousand, to each country falling within days. Our leaders failed to realistically understand their predicament, seeing as they’re just paid puppets.

In the end, no lab experiment, solution, resolution or even prayers, could stop them. Our basic human intelligence, with increased aggression and speed, meant that we were outmatched in nearly every single area.

Of course, if it wasn’t for this mountain sanctuary, there would be nothing left of the human race to speak of. Each day, I look out over the valley from this shielded observatory, to see their progress. Within one year the air quality improved. Famine resolved with sustainable resources. Water levels equalised, their near collective instinctual, habitual need to support each and to work together, surpassed anything our original race could ever perceive. We were, for the lack of a more suitable description, a lower life form.

They showed a willingness to support each other, as our original, basically intellectually broken minds melded to whatever was within them. We, I, have witnessed love, understanding, appreciation and more from all of them. I have struggled with the many mental conflicts within my mind, especially now that we’re close to finding a cure or, should I say, a method to eradicate all of them.

I am not at ease with our current thinking. The human race has survived up to this point. I see that things need to change.

Emma, placing the audio buds into her ear, picked up the recording device and continued her recording, as she walked from the room.

You see, we’ve possibly run our course. We have hardly developed. We’re still influenced with greed, corruption, the need for ‘more’, when the simple satisfactions of life are right next to us. We abandon people that care for us, without even uttering a word to resolve our feelings and, even today, I witnessed aggressive and disgusting behaviour from a group of people within this complex. We barely number two thousand souls, yet we’re still willing to continue the learned behaviours passed from adult to child. I see no future for us.

She continued recording, as she made her way down the empty hallway, reaching the main observation room. The room, spacious, with a spattering of desks strewn in various locations, led to the large, shielded opening to which the valley below could be studied. She stood next to the shield, feeling the slight energy pulse just in front of her face. She smiled.

“Magnify,” she said, as the view focused to where her eyes directed, “locate family twelve!”

The view darted slightly to the left, to a small cabin. She’d been watching this family for over a year. They walked like humans, but their mannerisms contained no avarice, no other motivation other than companionship and togetherness. It was almost as if the human soul was freed within each of them.

She smiled, lowering her gaze ever so slightly, as she continued her dictation.

There is a time for everything, if there’s no chance of ever turning a corner. Without understanding, without communication, without realisation, the human race would always be doomed to commit the same mistakes over and over again. We have had our time upon this earth, this planet. It’s time to let go, it’s our moment to bow out.

 Emma, knowing the consequence of her impending actions, simply knew that it was the right thing to do. She wouldn’t allow the disease of her culture to once again swath the earth of its precious resources. She’d no longer allow the greed within hearts, to abandon supposed values along with the very dignity of her moral compass. It was time. She walked over to the left side of the room, towards the control panel.

Lifting her wrist, she tapped the screen with the other recording device being held by her other hand, “Daniel, it’s time!”

She continued,

To me, it’s a matter of perspective. My own life, in the face of saving a child, wouldn’t even be a question. I would sacrifice myself in an instant. For my partner, I would do the same as I would protect that person due to love and care. We have two thousand souls within this mountain, yet we’re willing to annihilate nearly eight billion lives to save the few. This cannot happen. If I viewed savages, down below, I wouldn’t hesitate, but they’re not. They’re living, loving, caring souls that share a bond with each other that surpasses anything the human race could ever fathom. This is why I have made this decision.

Emma placed the recording device onto a chair just next to control panel, pressing send. Every screen within the complex would shortly play the video, the audio, or display the text she’d created. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, breathing as her intentions became real. No-one would die, but they would never be the same again. Raising her hand, she keyed in the code, pressed the two buttons together and, then, lowered the small lever as far as it would move.

Within seconds the shield stopped, and at that moment, she was greeted with utter silence. She’d taken care of the failover options, the supplementary metal barrier that should have lowered upon the shield failing, which meant that they were exposed. She slowly walked over to the window. It wouldn’t take long and, as she looked into the valley, she could hear the thundering footsteps, all running, heading towards the exposed entrance.

She closed her eyes, once again, as they flooded through the window.

She felt the change almost immediately, her mind connecting to a higher calling, a heightened frequency of understanding, as she ascended from being a human being, to belonging to a higher calling. The assimilation of her species, to allow a complete restoration of the planet she loved, was finally complete.

Click to Listen

Walls

He heard the whimpering, the small murmurs that sounded like a scared animal, as well as feeling the pain from such a wounded person. He never realised, he never knew to look, always too busy dealing with specific situations, solitary events, to realise that there might have been a bigger picture.

Finally, after all of the years, he’d found the very reason for so many, many issues within his life. He crawled forward, slowly, not wishing to scare the innocent individual huddled over in the corner. The sunlight, barely visible from within the rounded walls, cast a slight view at what was directly in front of him.

“Hello,” he said, with the softest voice he could find, as he tried to imagine the fear within such a youngster, “don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you!”

The young boy, moving his legs out from under his curled body, sat on the ground. The slim light caught his facial features. He was grubby, withered, broken and scared deeply across his skin.

“My name is Daniel and, believe it or not, I’m you, just a grown-up version of you. Some would say that I’m the thinking version and I’ve been looking for you for a very, very long time!”

Immediately, at hearing older Daniel’s words, the young Daniel moved ever so slightly closer, deciding to kneel instead of sitting against the wall.  Older Daniel continued, “I would have found you earlier, but I simply did not know what I was looking for!” Older Daniel knew that he had to feel the emotions of his younger half and, at that very second, he embraced the emotion. At first, the heavy feeling hit him deep within his chest, nearly suffocating his thoughts, as he felt blow after blow, hurt after hurt. He stopped connecting, as the thoughts seemingly threatened to overwhelm his mind and, as he knew, thoughts turned to thinking and then the clouds appeared.

“I’m so very sorry. I wholeheartedly apologise, as I’m supposed to help you, to be here for you! I wasn’t. I failed you and I will never fail you again. I’ve blamed you for so many, many moments in my life, while all you needed was a love that would never ever even think of leaving you!”

The child in front of Daniel stood, reaching out with his arms. At the sight, Daniel’s thoughts felt the tears arrive to his eyes. The innocence that he’d denied for so long. He leaned forward, allowing his younger self to wrap his arms around him. The emotion, the warmth, flowing over the both of them within an instant.

“Have you ever tried to crawl out of this place?” older Daniel asked.

The youngster shook his head.

Daniel continued with the kind words of warmth towards his younger self, “Well, I can see why, as you’re not supposed to. I’m supposed to help you and you’re supposed to help me. Apart, we fail, but together, we can accomplish so much!”

For a second, the younger version smiled, but then tears appeared. Daniel felt the sadness, as he spoke with tenderness, “What’s wrong?”

“I just want someone to love me!”

“I understand. Are you ready to be loved?”

“Yeah!”

“Are you sure?”

“I… don’t know?”

He could feel the pain, the hesitation, the repeated circumstances and failed connections arise within the both of them.

“Why do you hesitate?” asked Daniel.

“I’m… afraid.” Said the young voice.

“There you go. That’s good. What are you afraid of?”

“Being left alone!”

Once again Daniel felt the waves of emotion, loss, abandonment, the pain of solitude and anguish press against his soul.

“I understand. I do. Honestly, I do. An unconditional love is rare between two people. It’s the type of love that appears once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky. Two people have to fix themselves first and you know what…”

“What?”

“You and I can fix ourselves?”

“How?”

Daniel smiled a warm smile. A caring smile. “Within me there’s a heart and, if you’re willing, we can become a single person, working together and then, when we’re ready and we love ourselves, we’ll magnetically, naturally, attract someone who we can share our love with, without question. Would you like that?”

The younger version of himself hugged Daniel even tighter, as his head nodded up and down. He could feel the love, the certainty, the realisation that they needed to work together. Always.

Daniel felt his younger self dissolve into his conscious state, his frequency increasing to a stable, singular level. He stood, feeling connected and together, as his head reaching the top of the circular wall and, with one tiny little push of his finger, the walls came tumbling down around him.

He was whole, he was complete and now, as the weeks moved forward, he would learn and become even more. No more walls, no more prisons.

 Click to Listen

(Bit of an odd 'self discovery' post. I'm working on things)

Chance

Frank stood upon the step, waiting, hands firmly in his thick jacket pockets as they attempted to hold onto warmth. It had been almost twenty years since he last stood upon the same steps. A lifetime ago, or two, since those eventual days of his younger years.

He started to chew the inside of his lip, that thing he did when understandably nervous. Twenty years was a long time, despite never really losing touch with the one person he’d never managed to forget. He was, if he were honest, someone that just wanted to have that little bit of fun. The romance, the excitement, the never-ending adventures and the obvious visits to yet another stranger’s abode.

The small amount of inner lip chewing continued as he looked down the small, cobbled path, left, then right, as his heart’s rhythm continued to beat within his chest. He wasn’t getting any younger, even if his thoughts were still as they were all those years previous.

He’d grown, adapted, strived to be wherever he wished to be, with only one aspect of his life seemingly vacant. That beating heart of his, often silent, with occasionally reminders to consider the emotional needs over the physical. He’d finally given in, relinquished his barriers and finally abandoned the fake walls that kept him within solitary confinement.

He heard footsteps, as he looked to his right. She had arrived. His smile grew, his heart beat faster and the butterflies within his stomach flew with excitement. She was, after many, many years, still the magic that made his eyes show the softer side of his feelings. She could melt any walls, with inly a few of her individual, clever words.

She returned his smile, her face lighting his world within a few seconds. She slowed, standing in front of him, as he stepped down from the step he was stood upon. Removing his hands from his jacket, he placed them into her gloved hands and leaned forward, kissing her lips quickly. The first hello they’d shared in many, many years.

“You look absolutely beautiful!”

She rolled her eyes, expecting nothing less than his usual charm,

“Well, I had my hair cut and I don’t think they cut it right, but I’m here…”

Frank shook his head, knowing not to fight any woman’s description of their hair. He shrugged his shoulders, as he let go of one of her hands, turning to face the steps. He looked back, “Shall we?”

She nodded, as Frank led them forward into the Gardens. As they walked the short distance, he could feel his heart dancing within his chest. He felt 24 again, alive, the joy and appreciation for such a feeling overcoming any thoughts of being anywhere else. They both stopped, by the fountain, the place they’d visited all of those years previous.

He, once again, placed his other hand to hers, their eyes presenting all the truths that could ever be written concerning a love of the ages. They both knew, had experienced the many complexities that life presented, that there was only a finite amount of people that truly, honestly, bonded.

“I’ve missed you so much and I am sorry. I’m sorry that it took over twenty years for us to be here again. I never forgot you. Never would, and that’s why we’re here. We both know that this is where we first kissed and now, it can be the next ‘first place’ that we kiss. Missed you. Absolutely always will, despite my obvious aloof nature. I’m not perfect and I never will be, but we both know that we’re more than perfect together. We just had to see a few others in between!”

Frank smiled a naughty smile, the both of them knowing that they both had differing ways of expressing themselves. She could have said a million words but, instead, she simply closed the small distance between them, hugging him and holding him close. Tears appeared within Franks eyes and, finally, he said the words that he should have said many, many years previous,

“I’ve missed you so much and I will always, always love you!”

No matter the distance, no matter the circumstances they both knew, that there could always be the hope of a second chance.

Written 12.02.2021.

Tear

Noah, hesitant, reflecting on the last few months as his mind persisted with the insistent torture, closed the door behind him. He hadn’t stepped into this very room for many, many moments. It had, as he’d reminded himself far too often, been far too long. He’d taken each day as a solitary section of time to move forward with his life. He couldn’t grasp or, even, wish to contemplate an entire month, let alone a week.

His creativity, his lust and desire to create, had grown stagnant as new flurries entered and departed his life. He’d regretted his decisions, his actions and, now that he was returning to what he loved, his choice to place his own satiations to the back of his mind had haunted him. Slowly, he walked over to the easel, removing the dust sheet from around the blank canvas in one swift action. He paused, holding the moment within his mind’s eye. He’d been here many, many times before but, this time, it was different. He still felt and, if he were honest, he’d probably never be able to relinquish his emotive moments.

He placed a hand onto the canvas' surface, feeling, as he closed his eyes, understanding, connecting to his inner child that loved to create. He’d chastised himself, over and over again, for allowing that inner child of his to ruin yet another perfectly crafted frame of life. As the thoughts arose, he disallowed his thinking to ruin yet another day. He refused. Instead, he felt the cotton duck surface of the canvas, 12oz primed, the most common canvas when looking to place a toe back into the sands of the painter’s mind.

He stepped back a small step, opening his eyes, nodding as the acceptance of having a life re-entered his soul. He’d paid the price, understood the cost, repented and sought professional assistance and calmed that unruly child of his. He knew that he’d been abandoned on many, many occasions and that alone, was why his imagination flared like the surface of a bright sun. He adored creating. He enjoyed the smiles of another enjoying his work, which in turn brightened and fired his soul to new levels.

He'd forgotten. He’d forgotten who he was, what he loved, what he adored more than anything, with the very thought of creating a masterpiece whilst the rain poured upon his face, enthralling his very soul to the level of a burning sun. His very core needed this moment.

He sought no validation from another, he wished for no understanding but the very notion that he’d studied his own soul. He would remain quiet, with his art defining and sculpting his very mood with a hopeful brush. He needed to find his frequency, his poetic position, to place a new platform underneath his feet to rise to another level. He needed to find his vulnerability. He wished to understand his own inner voice, that was attached to the youngest of wounded warriors within. He needed authenticity. He gaspingly needed to find his self-esteem again, after having every single shred of his dignity smashed to small pieces.

He felt his hands start to shake, his breathing quickening, as his mind started to spin. He steadied his poise, grasping, holding, balancing his dignity and self-protection as he steadied his breathing. Slowly in through the nose, out through the mouth. He knew that he’d been broken but, as with the other occasions, what was broken would eventually find and heal the cracks with heavier understanding and balance. Pushing his thoughts away, refusing to allow them into his structure, he continued.

He selected a small brush, watercolour, moving it through his fingers like a skilled magician using a wand to envision magic. He needed to change the frame, his frame, his very foundation of thinking, with a new picture that refined, defined and reminded him of who and what he would soon become. He, as he knew, was also a picture. He realised that every single line, every detail, revealed a new view for anyone that cared to look. He knew that a picture simply wasn’t a picture, it was an expression, a design, a work of thought, a small slice of soul and a dash of heart. It was everything to someone, yet nothing to another. One person would realise the faulted masterpiece within their arms, while another would throw it aside as trash to a bin.

He felt his emotional walls break again, for a second, allowing the moment to hold him in place. He leaned forward, grabbing the top sides of the frame with either hand and, as he felt his eyes reach their limit, a single tear escaped and fell to the canvas. He watched as it fell, the slow motion of a single droplet holding him in place as the world slowed. Every tear, a moment. Ever sob, a chance to escape the pain. Every single expression, a second to become something new.

The tear, absorbed by the canvas, stopped his emotions as he again stepped back. His mind raced, his mind stopped, it explored and realised all within a second. He selected another brush and gently, expertly, drew a faint black outline around the drying tear. His mind exploded with expressive thoughts.

Black, the ascending night of darkness, the realisation and shock of events permeating into one’s soul. He’d been there, lived through the moment again and again, wishing for each new time to become easier. This last time was heart-breaking, distressing, but made him seek solace and clarification from within. He’d started to rescue himself from his tears.

Selecting another brush, he drew a thicker surrounding colour around the black. The purple, ever so slightly blending into the black. The bruises of life, the hard knocks being felt within, the heart cracking and bleeding out its very life essence, from the single solitary tear.

Once again, another brush, the dark blue for the inner-sadness and desolate heartache. The searching, the wandering and wondering, if there would be rescue or a respite to the moments that clouded each sky. Another brush, the colour of orange. Still tender, still hurting, still fresh upon the mind’s eye and thoughts. He’d chastised his thinking upon many a day, but the thinking from each thought, hounded and haunted his very heart.

The green, the grass, the positioning of a person upon the ground, finally able to stand upon the earth after the colours of surrender and failure started to fade. He knew that he was close to this colour, but still so far. The final colour, the bright blue skies of freedom and accepted solitude.

He stepped away from the canvas, a few paces, to view his simplistic, expressive, hastily crafted creation.  It was minimalistic, simplistic, basic but so very, very clarifying to his soul. At the centre of all suffering, a tear. Within the middle of each breaking heart, a drop of pain. He risked a smile, feeling his lips move, as new tears appeared to his eyes. He’d missed this, his escape, his isolation of creation. He’d never dreamed that his first creation would define the ending of a relationship, with such ease. He felt the colours, all of them, upon the nights, within the mornings and throughout each pain filled day. This was his frame, his heart, made clear. It was time to move forward.

Placing the final brush to the side of the canvas, he dried his eyes with his sleeve, lifting his phone from his pocket to take a small, private, intimate picture of his very soul’s creation. It was deeply personal, the first step of acceptance, of creation, to find what was missing. He’d done what he’d intended to do, find himself, heal the youngster within, with the only action remaining being to cry the single, solitary, private last tear.

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Thorns

Rose stepped into the spacious greenhouse, immediately feeling the slight mist permeating the surrounding air. She’d missed this place, even if it was but a few years since she last visited. The calm, the presence, the aura of so much growth and life within one single, solitary space enthused her. She closed her eyes, breathing in, slowly, holding the breath within her lungs, as she reminisced with the many years of clean air. Exhaling, with no haste at all, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled.

She stepped forward slowly, with ease, taking in the surrounding area with keen eyes. Her day-to-day life, despite being busy and reasonable, needed such an escape ever so often. She stopped by her favourite namesake, the roses that featured throughout her life. They were, as always, the most beautiful of flowers. The very expression of the red, romantic, meaningful emotions conveyed within each petal, brought her feelings to the front of her mind.

It had been months, a few days, maybe a couple of hours, since he’d left. The emotions moved within her, finding their outlet as her eyes welled, ever so slightly, as she pressed the thoughts within her into the deep abyss of her soul. She wouldn’t let the thoughts turn into thinking. Thoughts, alone, were not that destructive, with thinking… the thinking torturing and ripping at her very sanity.

“Are you okay Petal?” said a kind voice from behind her. Rose turned her head, ever so slightly, smiling, as her Auntie appeared at her side. The smile grew as the warmth from another person, ever so slightly, bonded with her energy.  Rose knew that Aunt Bessie always managed to calm her energy, the vibration of two kindred souls knowing and understanding each other, with no words needed or required.

“I’ll be okay,” replied Rose, her smile fading slightly, “it’s all but the growth of a flower!”

Rose’s Auntie smiled, knowing very well that most conversations often featured words linked to flowers in many ways. Rose felt Bessie’s arms wrap around her, squeezing ever so tightly, expressing the concern from one to another. Rose placed her hand upon Bessie’s arm, returning the caring gesture. Bessie could feel the rising emotion and, immediately, chose to impart her usual wisdom.

“Rose, life is but the chance to grow. To become more than we once were. Take this flower… ,” Aunt Bessie picked up a rose from the pot in front of her, a fine selection, in full bloom, “it’s so beautiful, the design, the perfect structure that only knows one way to be. It’s also destructive, protecting itself whenever a fool hardy person tries to get close!”

Rose, intrigued and ever so slightly confused, moved her head slightly to the left. Bessie knew that she had Rose’s full attention.

“The thorn, my dear Rose! The thorn. The rose is so perfect on the outside but, if miss-treated or handled improperly, will always, always, cut the person that doesn’t treat them the way they should be treated. One slip from caring fingers, become scratched and cut!”

Rose, fully confused at this point in the conversation, started to giggle, “Auntie, I have no idea what I’m supposed to think?”

“Oh Rose, you’re beautiful, but you have the most tender, vicious, unscrupulous thorns. You refuse to let someone get too close to you and if they do, heaven forbid their hands! You’ll cut them to shreds.”

Rose, finally understanding, lowered her head and smiled. She knew that she needed to open up, but the fear of an overgrown garden stopped her in her tracks. She knew that she needed to bleed, to become vulnerable, but she simply didn’t wish for her petals to become creased, damaged or lost.

Bessie placed the rose back into the vase, nodding in her usual way. She knew that hearts that ‘didn’t’ allow love, would be broken. Every dream stayed a dream, until woken by understanding, and every rose remains within the garden, until allowed to be picked.

“Come on you, let’s go have some oddly titled tea that makes no sense! Be brave, be a fool, be as soft as a rose and let’s talk this out!”

Rose smiled, realising that she needed to visit her auntie a lot more than she did. After all, If you needed thorns removing, what better person to assist than a certified, perfectionist botanist that’s your very own, special, budding Auntie.

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Souls

There are over seven billion living, breathing, tenured souls upon this breathing planet. They feel, they live, they all bleed and most certainly, they should all feel. In the span of our lives we might meet a very miniscule amount of those souls. Most will bring a smile, laughter, mistrust or any of the many emotions that’s involved with another human being. We’re alive, but we’re never really living unless we share.

Amongst the few souls that eventfully move within our lives, we search for someone that can truly understand us. We somehow wish for an instinctual connection that may never, ever, be fully realised. We’re jumbled, even when adventurously cable of being the calm with which we seek. It’s a marvel, a veritable mystery, to even begin to believe that one singular individual can truly, honestly, ever fully understand another individual’s life. We’re complex, yet very, very simple. We’re defined with ease, yet behind the mask we can often be the most miss-guided, troubled individuals walking upon the earth.

In all my years of being the person that I’ve become, I’ve tried to understand people, despite being miss-understood upon many an occasion. For a soul to truly be free, to truly find itself, we need freedom within the arms of someone that will never, ever, chastise us for the simple fact that we’re different. Despite the clothes, the cars, the increased eyebrows or the barbarity we can display to fit within society, there’s no escaping that we’re all singular, unique people. We try so hard to hide the fact, but it’s obvious. From the toes upon your feet, to the nose upon your face, we’re the beauty of the people that created us. Life is beauty. It’s a shame that we eventually become crushed by the weight of such a life.

We’re souls that have not yet truly understood that life is fleeting. It is but a second’s breath from failing. We live, we age, we wish we had more time and then, as if a whisper escaped our final understanding, we leave and may never, ever return. The souls that have seen another soul leave this world, as sad as the moment might be, are closer to understanding the frailty of a soul.

Personally, I still seek a soul to sit beside my own. It’s a sad adventure, filled with solitude and loneliness, but maybe that’s the real journey of life. A soul, in order to truly love another, must realise that the weight of the world must be removed before the joy of love can be realistically felt. We torture each other, upon occasions. We speak such slanderous words that are cruel, pathetic and miserable. Not one of us can ever, ever, escape what we are. Each vapid word upon another soul’s ears adds weight.

As mentioned above, there might be seven billion human souls upon this world, but we only realistically require one. You know where I’m heading with this, I hope. I see, each and every single day, people suffering, people hurting within, wishing and hoping that the soul next to them would leave or, even, for a soul to understand theirs. The entire process is mistaken, wrong, miss-aligned and fraught with angst. There is one true soul that requires guidance, love and understanding. It needs to be cared for by the only person that can ever really understand that soul.

You. You and you alone are the only person with the qualifications to understand yourself. You can seek guidance, you could seek solitude or, even, seek answers. Unless your soul is balanced, then there’s no need to involve another. To seek balance from another person is akin to placing your entire well being in the hands of a perfect stranger. If you do not know yourself, then a stranger may never, ever, truly know you. Even after ten or more years, the understanding may still never be known.

To conclude, your soul is yours to own. You could actually call your soul your mind, as that’s where it’s probably stored. Know yourself, heal yourself, take pride in knowing that you’ve emotionally stood upon your own two feet, without the weight of your life being placed upon the shoulders of another. It’s okay to seek solace, but as mere mortals we often take far more than we should. After all, if you wish to be the best version of yourself, find the true soul that matters and take care of it… your soul. It’s the only soul that will truly, always, actually attempt to keep you safe.

Click HERE to listen.

Written 09.08.2021. Catching up (Finally)

It's funny... as this is far more relevant, today (to me), than when it was written. Soul fixing is a GO!

We

Right at this moment, one side of my head feels very, very odd. Yes, that’s my opening statement. Bit odd, but honest and to the point. I’m exploring, finding a frequency, trying to level up my life in a way that’s fruitful and sensible. Many find solace in a television screen, a bottle, promiscuity or substances. Me, I explore or, at least, I try.

Over the last few weeks I’ve read, studied, tried to understand and explored via meditative options. I’ve found nearly all of it sensible, honest, scientifically proven and although I’ve not enjoyed most of it, due to various reasons, I know that it’s a worthwhile endeavour. As above, I don’t hide. Well… not now, at least. I did, but that’s another story.

Over the years a few people have stated that I don’t open up. When (if) I do, you get to see, hear and feel the genuine person underneath the smiles and topics of jest. It is a wonderful moment. It’s rare and, ashamedly, a tragedy of immense proportions for someone like myself to hide the best part away. My emotions. “Not those again!” I hear you proclaim.

Yes. Emotions. I have lost so much due to them. Either too much emotion (early life) or too little (later on). This brings me to my inner child.

 

I have found the loneliest young child lying alone, in an incubator. That new-born was left without caring arms for twelve weeks. That, to a psychiatrist, is a time bomb of unhealed abandonment and trauma. Oh yes. Most certainly.

I have found the quietest young boy that just wanted his voice to be heard, not daring to speak, just in case the arguments started. Again. Over and over. The silence deafening, filling each room with dread and cold quiet. Best to play with my toys on my own.

I have found the smallest little boy screaming at the top of his lungs, asking not to be left alone, in an adult’s hospital ward, not knowing what to do other than to hold up his arms shouting, “Don’t leave me, you don’t love me, please…!” Then, after that moment, every single hospital day was blocked from my conscious memory and even now, I hardly recall anything from that time.

I have found the young adult pushing down his own abandonment and fear, as both parents did what they do, leaving. Both parents. Left. Fair enough. I understood the reasoning and didn’t, seemingly, become affected by it. I was.

I’ve also met a few others but they become a little dark so I can stop at this point.

In my life, I’ve met many, many people. Nearly all of them have suffered at one point in time, as a youngster. Even the smallest thing can leave an imprint upon a person. When we’re young our emotional safety and well being is a delicate balance of love, care and words. Even one word can change the way you perceive situations from that single point in time. It’s no wonder that the world suffers, as each child suffers. Trying to understand the bigger picture, the world around you, from an early age, is largely dependant on the adults and care givers around us. I don’t blame the adults, as it's a never-ending continuation of doing the best they/we can.  We’re not professionals (not that I’d know as the old child I’ve looked after is myself. Oh.)

Today, I met my fully abandoned self. I thought that I could meet each individual moment of my young life and, I have, but today was different. You could call your inner child your emotional stability/intelligence. You could call your inner child the part of you that has been wounded upon many occasions. You could also call your inner child a load of rubbish, but the data and information is there for everyone to see.

I know that I have emotional connectivity issues. Ask me an emotional question and I can develop and view nearly every single scenario. It’s been said many, many times, that I’m the most ‘understanding person’ that x or y knows, but that’s fine, as long as it’s not about me or the people I care about.

I retreat. I have retreated and it has cost me so very, very much. No more.

Today I descended into the back corners of my mind and, through a descriptive, imaginary situation from a professional, I opened the door to the place where all of my discarded emotions, memories and horrible situations go to die. They don’t vanish, unless you deal with them. Sat amongst the rubbish, within this dark horrible space, sat a young child. He was around seven or eight. Ideally, I should have seen a young baby in an incubator, but maybe I’ve dealt with that already.

The emotion was real. I’d hidden away. This child, this person, this very moment, has shown me what I’ve done with my emotional reasoning. ‘I’m worthless’, ‘I’m nothing’, ‘I don’t deserve…’, ‘I’m always alone’ and more. This is why I didn’t and don’t speak when my rational mind screams for me to do so. It’s actually quite a tragic series of life events. The love that I’ve damaged, the emotions I’ve missed, the stability that I’ve denied myself and more.

One could be overly dismissive about all of this and push it aside, but when we’re/you’re alone at night, in an empty bed, if you allow yourself to open up, you know that we all have something missing. Something that can be changed. Or, just continue eating crisps and shouting at the TV, ignoring the soledad (Spanish), solemn child within.

I wish for freedom. I no longer wish to love someone else, as I need and want and wish to love myself. I would, however, like to ‘share’ that love. I want my frequency to vibe with the best part of myself and others/another. I do not wish to be attached, as I would prefer to exist alongside. I have damaged myself so very, very much over the years and the fear of abandonment has silenced my inner voice. This is tragic. It’s unfortunate.

Thankfully, there’s further discovery to follow. There is far more teaching to understand. It’s all an adventure.

‘We’, are making progress. Each of my inner children, or the inner child that has been freed from a prison of my own making, are with me. We, can now develop, grow, understand and more. After all, if you release your inner child, then there’s a lot more work to do. I’m scared, intrigued, hesitant but willing to move forward. I refuse to spend another second trapped within my own prison.

…and no, I’m not going insane. Insanity is doing the exact same thing day in, day out. ‘We’, won’t do that anymore.

P.s. I now have an awful headache.

Thoughts

For most of my life, I’ve tried to do one thing, with that one thing being to heal. To fix. To adapt. To become something better than what I previously believed to be 'just' and 'correct'. This trend started around the age of thirty. I was no longer able or willing to blame others for what was, basically, my own mind doing what it does best. Think.

Eventually, after this, most of that, I reached a place of stability. Utter, clear, beautiful stability with no little voice proclaiming that I was such and such. This or that. The other. It was amazing. Little did I know… .

Over the last month, or so, I’ve realised that I was quite lucky to no longer be clouded by ‘thinking’. It sounds odd but, thinking causes so many issues in one’s life. You have a thought, a lovely, random, solitary thought, to which you apply so much thinking that the one moment in time becomes something else. You twist, turn, squeeze and, eventually, you allow your mind to torture your very emotions. 

I also did not know that our very hearts have something of a brain, all to itself (as well as the gut). Your heart can think, in its own way, as well as certainly feel. This, to me, explains a lot. I have a big heart. It’s absolutely stupid, giving and very, very thick (when it’s engaged, that is).

All at once, your thoughts can completely take over your life. It is… suffocating. It is… debilitating. Rational thoughts become idiotic notions of grandeur. The common, cold, logical sense making way for daydreams and over-consuming emotions. I need to understand. There’s a space within me dedicated to understanding.

Then, from within myself, despite the many, many exploratory sessions of self-help, study, understanding and learning, I realised that I’ve never, ever, actually faced the real issues within myself. It’s startling. It’s madness. It’s actually quite disheartening to know that everything you’ve ever done to become whole, is swept aside within a second. You have further study. You have far more reflection ahead.

It's daunting. It’s heavy. It’s also a little paralysing.

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(*Taken from the book linked below)
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Everything we are, everything we’ve become, stems from our learned behaviours as a child. From being slapped in a store, to being abused, to feeling intense loneliness and abandonment, to the momentary lessons of hugs, holding hands and more. There, I’ve said it. I’m not perfect and I never will be. I have demons, as well as saints, surrounding me.

Your inner child sits deep within the spaces that you never wished or thought to view. How do I confront arguments/situations with the person I love? What is their inner child shouting? I suffer, I regress into myself, hiding, with the adult in the background ‘screaming’ at me to say something. Anything. I’m a rational person. I can connect to my emotions and usually know what to say as I understand (as much as I can).  Yet, once my inner child appears, I’m lost. I’m done. The hurt repeats and I say and do nothing. I’m difficult to reach, at times. I smile, I laugh, I joke and make others feel good whilst, at the same time, wishing that I could just… allow my inner child to hold a hand the way it’s supposed to.

If I hide, a little, the problem might go away! It doesn’t. Without communication nothing is ever resolved. Without expressing our emotional needs and the 'thinking' that has arisen from our ‘thoughts’, there can be no progression.

I now stand upon a platform that’s flat against the ground. The grass underneath, willing the platform to rise, to once again enjoy the growing sunshine. I’ve never wanted to address my current situation, as I realistically never even really knew it existed. I stopped growing. I stopped learning, thinking that I was perfectly okay. I am perfect, we’re all perfect, in our damaged, individual way.

It’s time to tackle, understand and embrace the biggest issue(s) that any of us can face within our lives… the inner child that suffered. It’s one heck of a thing, but in the end, it’ll ensure that I/we/the person that wants to improve, becomes something of wonder. I’m all for fixing. I’m all for growing. I’m not afraid of hardly anything but, right now, I’m genuinely afraid of this. Why? I like the person I am, I’ve enjoyed my company and many, many others have also enjoyed my warm smile and silly words. Either way, I’ll grow, become a more rounded person, able to move forward with whatever life throws towards my path. It takes courage to be vulnerable, but it also takes courage to finally embrace change. 

What will be, will be. In the end, life is an adventure and I do not wish to adventure on my own. It’s time to become all I can be. No more thinking, just glorious, magical, progressive thoughts. Isn’t embracing new ideas, adventures and exploring experiences a good thing?

After all, we’re just one thought and reset away from becoming something brand new. See you on the other side, with new thoughts.

Education is key (buy this book and seek professional assistance, if needed):

*Link: Healing Your Lost Inner Child