“The ability to refuse the acceptance of the perceived and real limitations of the information I am presented, is perhaps the most convincing evidence for my most treasured gift of free will.”
There is a voice there. A small voice of what it could be, like a land beyond the chasm, beautiful, shimmering, and distant but then there is the land on which I stand as I had peered into the distance. I can focus on the now, the job, the weight, the pain, the injury, the environment, or I could focus on the gaping gap between now and the future. I look down as my toes extend over blackness. The deep void of the chasm seemingly swallowing all light which attempts to filter into the cavity. Black mist seemingly materializing into oozing thick tar as it focuses in on me. There is a third alternative to even the reality that holds my consciousness stable. You imagine that a small voice is contained within a small box. A tiny whisper as quiet as a mouse sits in a very quaint box resting in the center of your palm. The more you focus on the box, the more you listen, the more your intent takes control. You want to open this box, and you do, if only just a little. You lift your palm up to eye level, and nudge the lid open with your thumb. The voice, grows louder, and the box grows with it. The lid flaps closed as some sound escapes. The new event is scary, but also exhilarating. You saw a small light, very reminiscent of the land beyond. You try again, to embolden yourself. You open up the box again with a little more strength from your thumb. The sound is alluring, louder, and the box grows in size again. Now it is too large and uncomfortable to hold. So you drop it on the ground as the lid flips shut. You’re convinced that what the box contains is worth exploring further, your curiosity is peaked. You cautiously open the box by placing the lid between your thumb and fingers, and hold up the lid as you peer into your future. A possible future. One with everything you dreamed of, with everything you wanted. You take your time marveling at the possibilities for yourself. You don’t know how much time has passed, but you hear a faint calling from someone you know, enough for you to lift your eyes up, and concentrate on the voice. You hadn’t realized you let the lip flap down again, but you are staring back at the ground, and you can just see the edge to where the chasm begins. What was that feeling? Completion? Desire? Wholeness? Joy? Those feelings linger with you, as you turn your attention away to the person calling your name. You start your day again…
Do you go back to look into the box? Do you go back to stare at the chasm of impossibility? Do you indulge yourself in the distant dream, remembering less and less of it as time goes on? Or do you revisit the box, dare to open it again? Do you let yourself be overwhelmed by the possibility of a different future, a different now, and let that engage you to shape, and respond to opportunities differently than you have before. Habits aren’t good or bad, they are just the things that we do on auto-pilot. The day to day of waking up “late” or getting up “early”, of eating whatever we like, or choosing to eat things that serve a purpose. Of saying no, of saying yes, of complaining, or showing gratitude in every moment. Of paying attention, or tuning out.
My problem is that I have, much like a department store display at Christmas, boxes of all sizes stacked up to the high ceilings. All dazzling, and all which I let myself look at, but it hasn’t gotten me too far along my journey. I need to pick one, and stick with it. I should pick the most compelling box, to serve as a vision for my future now. One that can give me success too, even if I’ve wandered off into my current land of now, aimlessly allowing auto-pilot to plod me along in limbo. Now can be just as empty as the chasm, but with bills paid and a bit of responsibility.
At least if nothing else, I will have my health.
Chasing The Dream. 