Day 312: Within


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Freedom is easy when you dictate freedom’s manifestation. Making it an action that distorts the essence of its subject. An issue isn’t important until it’s your issue. A plight isn’t a plight until it’s your plight. The brawl isn’t a stance until it’s your degree of connection. All caught up in the misdirection. The prisoners have become both prisoners and wardens. Locked in your archaic thinking you ponder the enemies attack. Forgetting you share the same back.

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Day 311: Escaping Mental Captivity


Mindful

The other day I was venting on Facebook about a woman I encountered during lunch. Her newfound knowledge had sparked a flame she could not contain as the fruits continually fell from the tree. And, similarly to a rabbit in a carrot field, she consumed more than she could fully digest.

As I ranted on silently in my head and physically on my phone, she appeared unaffected by my designed reclusiveness. Jabbering on she recounts the rich history of our ancestry as if the shaman had just spoken to the little children amongst the cold night and bristling fire of our journey from kings and queens to slaves and cattle and back to mental kings and queens.

Reminiscent of Yoda holding court as Luke Skywalker describes the force. I sit willing myself to engage while rapidly wanting to disengage.

Respectfully conscious of another’s presence I crafted a mental door to escape the forming thoughts flowing forth as they sought to reach her awakening thought. Through a vehicle that has some of us still chained to the machine.

She continues and the more broken thought meets new thought, the more I poetically regurgitate the inner me forcibly holding her in. She’s the cynic I overcome each day. The one that knows the rivers and the valleys and the depths of salvation. She lives, but she rarely drives.

As I drift back to the woman beside me, I call forth the optimistic protagonist. There, yes, there… I rejoin the moment, present once again. She has once again sensed the freshness of the thought. It lacks roots. It’s filled with supplication and limited validation, but the seed has sprouted.

Yet, she still sees the world as the puppeteer and herself as the puppet. External hands directing her actions all the while absolving her of any accountability or responsibility. The moment of eclipse fighting to hold on. Awakening, but her eyelids refuse to open.

I am reminded, “all things are ready, if {when} the mind be so” (William Shakespeare).

She is still caged in an unlocked cell.

Never remembering she is the one with the key holistically capable of setting herself free.

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via The Latest Word Reflections of life expressed concisely and succinctly.

Day 141: The Lesson of The Offended Offender


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I do not get offended.

Every interaction is an opportunity to affirm who you are.

When the world becomes your classroom, everyone becomes both teacher and student.

Thus, you are either affirming the truth you speak or revealing the fallacy you hide.

Both are valuable.

Both teach a lesson to the pupil free of unwarranted expectations.
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Day 140: The Anti-Social Socialite



I have determined I am socially anti-social. I like most people. And, quietly diagnose the rest. Instantaneously inspecting and segmenting out the best. Experience has taught me the importance of caution with preliminary tests.

 
When around my circle I genuinely enjoy the familiarity of completed jokes. The knowing looks across wood stained tables. I connect.

 
Yet, in solace, I am free. Here the jokes are funnier somehow. Here somewhere the looks are deeper. I am one.

 
Yep, a little more anti than social.​
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Day 139: The Inside


The only way to lead thyself is to know thyself.

It takes the willingness to know the good, the bad, and the indifferent.

To deduce the composition of the whole, one must undertake the calculations and evaluations of the individual parts’ summation.

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Day 137: The Response


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I have friends who are atheist. I have friends who agnostic. I have friends who are Christians and friends who ascribe to another religion or no religion at all. Their belief in a deity or lack of belief is not a prerequisite for our friendship to flourish. Primarily, because I understand the experience principle.

 

Reality forms from one’s experience. The attribution exists in a collective oration. I’ve discussed this before. The idea nothing is truly real until you experience its’ realness first-hand.

 

Yet, I know empirically that my God is real and when sought the deity shows forth as Emmanuel.

 

You cannot see what you cannot believe. You will not believe what you refuse to see. The principle of a harden heart.

 

If you take the cap off your beliefs, God will take the cap off your sight. The principle of the promise.

 

As always the choice is yours, but the response is not.

 

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Day 135: The Underlined Reason


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There is a reason the caterpillar transitions into a cocoon before becoming a butterfly.

There is a reason little seedlings are planted after the last winter frost.

There is a reason you do not move into a home until it is complete.

In the past, I have contemplated the theoretical concept of playing dead without being dead.

Like most things, the understanding and application resonate with one’s perspective of death.

For some immobility is a form of death.

For others decimation of growth is death.

Medically speaking the loss of neurological function is death.

Ironically, this is not about death at all, but the symbolism of death’s characteristics.

I have observed, at different stages humans invoking death’s characteristics as a form of survival.

In school, we remain silent even when we know the answer out of unsupported fear of being wrong,

In relationships, we fabricate or eviscerate our feelings out of fear of losing the relationship.

In our jobs, we ride the assembly line even though we have already been assembled.

We fear the risk that does not pay off.

We fear the truth that does not reveal.

We fear the hope that does not produce.

And so, the caterpillar never becomes the butterfly

The seedling never becomes a rose.

And, the house never becomes a home.

Yet, change the perspective and the theoretical becomes the reality.

I know a king who was born a servant.

I know a servant who became a king.

I know a king who died a criminal but became an advocate.

His camouflage was a necessity to his survival.

The ruse surrounding his birth was predicated on hidden truths remaining hidden until their appointed unveiling.

It makes you wonder if he always knew who he would become.

You might even speculate if it came to him in the midnight hour.

Perhaps the helper showed him the way.

In any case, once he knew, he began to walk as he had caught the clue.

Until his payment was due.

The ideology bears witness to the theoretical supposition of the original thought.

Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

And just because you know, doesn’t mean you divulge.

Sometimes the greater victory is not in the now but in the latter.

Bridle the tongue so the mouth may speak.

If the caterpillar refused to hibernate, it would never become the butterfly.

If the seedlings were never nurtured, they would never become roses.

If the tree was never cut, the house would never become a home.

You cannot reach the finish line if you never run the race.

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Day 73: The Contract


Yes.

If you call me, I will answer.

If you send me, I will go.

If you command me, I will obey.

Yes.

When called, you answered.

When sent, you went.

When commanded, you obeyed.

Yes.

If you direct, I will follow.

If you speak, I will listen.

If you teach, I will learn.

Yes.

When directed, you followed.

When spoken to, you listened

When taught, you learned.

Yes.

When questioned, you answered.

When charged, you accepted.

Now, this I bestow to thee…



Go and want for nothing.

Live happy and free.

Discover the best part of being me.

For you have a strong family tree.

Unlimited and omnipotent provisions I hereby award thee.

For this I now decree.

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Day 72: Secular Vision


When people call you lucky, but they don’t know or can’t even understand your story….

I’m blessed and I always know who blesses me.

The tears have been replaced with smiles and laughter, but the vision you see today remembers every cloud along the way.

So if your definition of blessed equals my definition of protected and sealed, then yes, call me lucky.

If that’s truly what you see.

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Day 71: The Greater Service


I can teach you how to remember a response or I can teach you how to formulate your own response.

What remains is the greater service.

The lesson that keeps on teaching.

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 “Day 71: The Greater Service” (text) by EYHCS published under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
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Day 70: Divorce Yourself from the Outcome


 

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Information is one of the best gifts you can offer others or give yourself.

However, how they implement it is completely up to them.

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Day 338: Fractured Truth: A Twenty-Nine-Year Journey


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It all mattered.

It all held a level of significance.

It all molded you.

 

Not all of it remains.

Not all of it should be cultivated.

Not all of it carries forth with you.

 

Today I came face-to-face with my reality.

And, I fancied it.

We’d known each other before we knew ourselves.

 

As we set side by side, we knew each other still.

She had been my childhood best friend.

Back before Facebook, Twitter, and Snapchat.

Back when we exchanged weekly if not daily handwritten letters.

Letters I still have in my mother’s attic.

We separated not because of a disagreement, but due to emotional distance created by unspoken truths.

 

Haunted by the same secret we went our separate ways.

A secret that changed us without changing us.

Our secret no longer secret.

Our mutual truth no longer remains hidden.

There has been too much living to ever die again.

 

Few people have held her spot.

Mostly, because they never got the shot.

 

Reminensencing she brought it up, my adolescent reaction.

Her adolescent response.

Not to the truth, but to the omission.

Even now, it lingers.

She says, it severely impacted her formative years until her son appeared.

 

The reminder as we sat in the Central Jury room humbled me.

Our adolescent attempts at self-expression showed our ineptness.

Hurt turned into acting out.

And acting out metamorphosis into unforeseen consequences.

 

We have seen each other a few times since then.

But little did we know, the lives we then lived would soon come undone.

A twenty-nine-year friendship almost died, because of the truth we could no longer hide.

 

No more secrets.

No more excuses.

No more reasons to remain reclusive.

 

All the misinterpretations now clarified.

I am reminded why clarity is so important.

Fearful of a truth we both shared because we feared what the truth might shed.

 

It all mattered.

It all held a level of significance.

It all molded us.

 

Not all of it remains.

Not all of it should be cultivated.

Not all of it carries forth with us.

 

But we now know,

No more secrets.

No more excuses.

No more reasons to remain reclusive.

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