This is what happens . . .
First, the accident or the incident, whichever the case may be, then comes the response, followed by the afterthought and the things we wished we said. Has this ever happen to you?
Ever have something occur and then you walk away wishing you said something else?
You wished you came out on top in a conversation, yet instead, you felt vulnerable or foolish, is if someone was able to pull a fast one right before your eyes—and you just stood there and let this happen.
How many times have you tried to re-litigate the past? How many past conversations have you rehearsed in your mind, over and over, just in case they ever happen again? Or how many times have you done this to change the narrative just to feel like you came out on top in an argument?
When this happens, what does the narrative sound like in your head?
See, everything we do is to protect us.
This is ego, which if you recall, I mentioned in a previous note that ego is just our vanity screaming out to keep from being exposed.
Ego is the inner voice that calls out for justice whenever we feel we feel an injustice (or vulnerable.)
If the body is a temple or if the body is our kingdom, then the core of our mind is either the king or queen; hence, everything we do is done to protect them. This is ego. This is the watchperson standing in the watchtower, looking to see if anyone or anything is approaching that might harm us.
This is the thought machine, wondering if we are exposed or vulnerable or good enough, beautiful, acceptable, or pleasing to the eye, which would somehow validate us and our existence.
Ever say something and feel so insecure that the last thing you said somehow repeats itself in your mind, as if you were caught in a trap. The last word in your sentence reverberates in your brain—you feel so uncomfortable about what you said that you try to fix it and say something else so you can rebound. You try to redeem yourself but there is no redemption because the words you say never come out right and only seem to degrade you more the harder you try.
I often talk to you about the thought machine. We talk about the inner narrative and the internal biases. We talk about the subconscious programming, which is the script that our biases follow.
What would it feel like to walk away from this?
Imagine stepping out from a doorway.
See yourself here, on the doorstep of a home on a quiet street. No one is around. There are no cars on the street. The picture I want you to create is of an afternoon in early autumn.
The air has allowed the warmth to subside and be hinted with a cool breeze that is mild and comfortable or pleasing to the touch. You are free to smile here.
The trees aligning the street are turning colorfully. Picture the leaves in shades of yellow and orange. The sky is perfectly blue with thin traces of white clouds that scatter across the heavens.
There is nothing pressing here. There are no worries and there is no one to impress. There is just you and the road.
Imagine stepping from the doorway and walking down the walkway from the doorstep. You are at the street now. You can go right or left or walk in any direction. The choice is yours.
Remember, there is no one else in this vision. This is just you, walking along.
Envision the homes that you pass by. These homes are symbols. They are not real, but they are only what you choose to see them as.
Envision the street you walk along. See the trees and the grass on the lawns. See the landscapes and how they are designed. This place is beautiful to you.
See yourself on this journey, walking freely without intimidation and without concern. The wind picks up and rushes across your face. You feel refreshed. You feel free because this is you at your best ability. There is no one to deter you here, no one to diminish or degrade you. There is only you and the freedom of your footsteps of all you choose to walk away from.
I have practiced this vision for a very long time. My vision changes sometimes.
The roads I walk along change. I design my dream differently sometimes. I go through old neighborhoods in some visions and find myself redeemed (or forgiven.)
I find myself at my old address at my previous home, stepping down from my front stoop to see an old tree that stood directly across the street from my home. I admired this tree but I was the only one. The tree was old, half dead, which to me, this meant the other half was alive.
There was an old tree across the street from my house that most would complain about. But not me. I loved this tree.
This tree knew the secret of endurance. This tree lived longer than any of my longest living and older relatives. This tree lived longer than any other on the block.
Younger trees that appeared stronger or more aesthetically pleasing to the eye had fallen in storms—but not the old tree.
No the old tree stood and refused to fall. The old tree was looked upon as an eyesore. Only half the old tree’s limbs would be green in the summer—the other half were empty and vacant; however, birds flew by and perched here so there was still use for the tree.
I see this tree when I walk. I see this as a symbol of perseverance. I see this as me, beautiful in my own way, and refusing to submit to the odds or give in to the rhetoric of my thinking.
There is no fear in strategy. There are no insecurities in plans. This is emotion. There is no emotion in goals. There is only output
I see me here sometimes and envision my walk. The sky is perfect. The streets are empty and there is no one here but me, walking along, with each of my footsteps stomping on my inaccurate fears and freeing me from the snares of my thinking. This is my freedom from “the bondage of self.”
Whenever I find myself trapped in my ego and worried about the concerns of whether I will come out on top of a conversation or circumstance; I visualize myself here, walking tall and standing in the footsteps of my best possible potential.
I cannot re-litigate the past nor can I interact with the inner narrative of self-destructive thinking. Instead, I breathe. I take myself out of the equation. I remove ego which is just my vanity in fear of exposure.
I put plans into action rather than face life out of emotion. Put simply, I step forward to defy the subconscious biases that would otherwise keep me timid or hold me back.
I don’t ever want to feel timid or limited.
I want to be free to feel brave
I want to feel the breeze against my face.
I want the wind to fly through my hair and feel the sun shine upon me like a friend. I want to step through and be the best me possible
What about you?
What do you want to be?
Keep in mind:
All it takes is a decision