Words are important. Put enough words together and you have a thought. Enough thoughts create a world. I learned I make up my own reality. Oh sure, I work with the raw materials of my existence, from gravity to people on the street creating alternate realities. We all play the cards delt to us.
I don’t get to choose if the car flying through the intersection is real or not. Two cars can’t be in the same space no matter how enlightened I am. Laws of physics don’t change if I don’t like them.
I create what I think and feel about the experience. My thoughts, feelings and reactions is my reality. Is this another jerk having no business on my road, proving that everyone else but me has no concept of how to drive because they are all idiots, creating an unsafe world? Or are they rushing their child to the doctor after a playground fall? Do I curse them or bless them and see them safely completing their trip. Which scenario is true? The choice is mine.
I can create a reality that leaves me fuming, feeling angry and unsafe. I can choose to look at every intersection as a danger zone. I can see other drivers as morons out to kill me. Or I can create a world of loving people willing to sacrifice anything to support their family. Unless I track down the driver and demand an explanation, I am the creator.
We do this all the time. My revelation was how conscious I was in the process. Are we victims of our experiences and reactions? On autopilot, doomed to recreate the fear, anxiety, resentment or hate we experienced before? Or are we active in making a world in a way that serves us to our highest and best outcomes?
The answer is yes to both. It is up to me how I choose to participate in creating my world. How conscious I am of the process takes practice. Philosophers, shamans and master teachers like Buddha, Abraham and Jesus crafted practice and shared knowledge, but ultimately world building is an inside job. It is up to us what we make with what we have. Simple, but being human, a challenge to live.
The last few years I wrote books full of people, places and events tapped out on a keyboard. I joked that I am their creator, their god. Without me, they would not exist. The truth is as I sit down at my computer they appear, introduce themselves and take me on their adventures. I just chronicled the stories they create along the way. Not that different than creating my own world. Conscious creation in its many forms.
In the beginning there was the word. (John 1:1)
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