Breathe Your World Into Dust

He’s been in a world in his head, a world ingeniously designed to the specs of his limited view of the universe. A landscape of fears, should be’s, and can’t’s. And then he gives attention to his breath again. And he realizes that he hasn’t been with himself.

With incoming breath to calibrate to, his mind comes back to him. And he is all of a sudden able, seeing, and unafraid. The skyscrapers stretching into clouds of doubt, the unending streets, and the maze-like city blocks of his thought world are vanquished. They crumble in the quake of mindfulness and evaporate, thin as mist.

And in possession of his consciousness the beast moves forward to create the world. The world that does not disappear with a breath, but takes millions of breaths to make. He works with his mind. His body translates the blueprint of his mind into the world. Mind, body, and creation are one.

The solemn beast briefly remembers a different reality in the past. He gently thinks of the days in which his body worked separately from his mind. The days when his mind did not control the work of his body. The days when his mind wandered in the world of thoughts, staring up at the skyscrapers, turning down countless alleys, treading along endless streets. All the while his body worked for the minds of others, for the creation of a world in which he did not believe.

What is it for a beast to create what he does not see? Is it not a spending of his life, something that comes once, so precious and irreplaceable, irretrievable, for finite benefits? Doesn’t that reduce his life down to meaningless currency? As cold, forgettable, and pitiful as a bag of coins.

With another breath, the beast returned with joy to his creation. He allowed himself to be happy. For who else but his own self could give happiness to him? He took a moment to breathe in the atmosphere of happiness. The path would be long, he knew. The skyscrapers would be tall, taller than he could ever imagine. And the possibilities would be more convoluted than ever. Rest, and enjoyment of his happiness, was good to have.

He marveled at the parallel worlds of his past unpossessed self and his present conscious self. Both would look similar to any other beast who could have the chance to gaze in upon them. But one, he thought, is fundamentally different from the other. One he creates. This one he chooses.

Live powerfully,

Steve

The Brilliant Beast Blog Daily

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