Hunting the Hunter

What we fear is a shadow creature of our own design. Conjured from conjecture, we give it power to frighten. Yet we can hunt this shadow beast and slay it through a realization of its fictional nature.

It is a phantasm, a sprite borne of our imagination that perishes without upkeep. To ignore, is to invoke decay. And to fully dismantle the fabricated foundation of faulty logic upon which it lies, we shine a light too bright to deny.

When we stop running and become still, the shadow stops — as any shadow would. Only when we flee does the fiend seemingly chase. Yet it’s merely our thoughts that make it so. Discard the thought — it dies.

We must not actively pursue, lest the shadow continue existing, moving in the opposite direction as prey. The shadow must be illuminated out of existence. Let there be light, and know that it is good.

Lucid Life

I’m dreaming.
I am the dreamer, both source and subject.
As source, I am one with all.
As subject, I play a role like any other.
Through existential amnesia, I am an audience to this creation.
This is a dreamworld, a virtuality, a place of pure imagination.
It’s but a dream, a fictional tale.
There’s no need to wake up, just remain aware.
Once lucid I can influence the mood, setting the tone.
No longer lost I orchestrate harmony.
Shadows of fear dissolve from my illumination.
I am free to have fun, enjoy, delight.
I’m dreaming, now in the light.

Come to Light

Sit back, relax, lose all focus of self.
Pixels mixing, forget borders existing.
Particles deconstructing, blending as one.
Flowing through space occupied by all.
Drifting upon warmth of light from golden hues.
Witnessing the illusion of a sparkling spectacle.
A sight that never was but always is — a fiction.
Embrace a show acted out by its audience.
Focusing on whatever pleases, ignoring the rest.
Striving to stay the path that excites delight.
Breathe away the solidity of self, in, out.
Revealing the truth of an existential funhouse.

Lively Recitation

How do we dismantle pessimism and develop a relentless trust in the goodness of life? Perhaps we could try drilling it, again and again.

Devise a simple saying. Recite the words not with dull repetition but with feeling and imagination.
For example:

I believe in the benevolence of life.
Life, the all-knowing author of my narrative.
Life, the selfless provider of all things.

I align with life, appreciating the path before me.
Life, my ever-present protector.
Life, from whom I receive absolute love.

Stepping Back

A grain of sand on a glossy black surface is significant. That same grain of sand at a beach is insignificant. Focus increases significance. A widened perspective decreases significance. Don’t simply turn away, step back. Go far enough away until the irritation is lost within the sea of everything.

If one thing goes wrong, if five things go wrong, what about the thousands that have gone right? If stubbornness does not permit such recognition, back up even further. Picture the tiny blue ball rolling through space, dwarfed by the giant fire it encircles. Upon that planet thousands of years of history came and went.

Or perhaps that history was imagined, created by artists to entertain inhabitants of a fantasy realm. Either way, the significance of each passing day lessens when considering history’s span or veracity. Is a particular life important or unimportant? Pick whichever option is most appealing.

That inner feeling of agitation underlying action is a result of hyper-focus on the unpleasant. That horrible thing is trapped in time, release it. See all that was before and all that will follow. See the larger stage it’s set within. See yourself, years from now thinking back, observing your thoughts and actions. See a face too close, if only it would pull away and see the entirety of the situation.

Now realize it’s not too late. That face is your own, today. Step back, and keep going. Specifics become so tiny that they’re lost in an ocean of fading memories. Yesterday is floating away. Tomorrow will soon be drifting too. But today is here, a little boat with brightly colored sail. With sun shining and a comfortable breeze, travel to where you want to go.

Dramatic Existence

The dynamic nature of our relationships, the varying vitality of our physical being, societal progression and regression, the ever changing weather, the sporadic rumbling of the very earth itself — this world is a drama-factory, of this there can be no doubt.

It is so dramatic in fact, that we’re forever lost to these scenes flashing before us. If given time to ponder such ongoings, clarity would come easily. But we’re captivated, unable to look upon the true nature of this realm.

That is unless we still our mind. Through quiet repetition we can get to a place from which we can watch the world. In this observational state the underlying essence of existence is revealed.

But the portal closes quickly, circumstances continue crashing into us, fatigue sets in and we sleep, dreams add static to our thoughts, we forget our understanding, and once again we’re lost amid life.