Patterns, what do they mean? Is the pattern, the pattern? Is it time to change the pattern of how we live our lives, separate and as a whole.
Some of you may be familiar with the Netflix movie Maniac, where in the future a group of people go into a Pharma research project. During the project, a few learn about themselves and the patterns the have created their lives.
So can we look at that, the patterns that we have created willingly, and also the subconscious patterns that have been passed down to us from previous generations? Is it time to look deep within and see those particulars that may have created the patterns stopping our process of having a better life?
Let’s colour our world, having the patience to pick only when we choose. To understand the ideas that come around more often and what pushes our buttons.
It’s time to take the time and give ourselves a time out. It’s time to review everything about ourselves and if we see a pattern of things that don’t fit us well, I guess it’s time to get real. Let’s figure out how to learn something new about why we do what we do. It’s not about the glue and the cracked awareness, it’s about throwing out the cup and finding a new awareness that can move us forward. Everything we want is ready to be found we just have to take the pattern an undo the “stuff” that has stitched it together. Pick the colours and build the pattern we choose, have the challenges that inspire us to finally change.
Is “It” a hard no? Could it be that there is the possibility of a softer, yes?
Faced with an indecision do you take a hard look at the answer facing you? Is there a possibility of skirting the issue for now, to make for an easier choice? What is the difference between a hard no and a soft yes.
Dance on a hard wood floor, there is no give, it gives back without barriers. You move, you twirl, you sway and the floor beneath you gives what you give to it, that being the energy of your feet upon its surface.
Dance on a carpet or a well padded floor and you will get soft and pliable, a softer feel. You may eventually get friction from the carpet, or a softer dance with the padding. With the carpet your movements may not flow and with the padded floor, it’s softer, yet it doesn’t give you the same feel as the bareness of the floor.
A hard no gives you the answer without regret. It shows you what is truthfully is, hard and unforgiving. The answers flow and slide as you dance to the question. It’s hard work not to fall when it’s slippery yet soon you realize what you are to do to be fluid.
What happens with soft yes’s? You get just that, you may get a softer image and a more imaginative story. Yet you don’t get the feel of what is really the reality you may not want to face. Softer yes’s may be playful, they may bounce you around but I’d rather know where I am, not to be bounced to a destination that doesn’t help me out because I chose softness.
A hard no, is a hard no, but it will get you all the yes’s you ned every time.
Theres something I want to talk about, something very real to all of us. It’s a topic of self importance as it has to do with surviving. So let me pose you the question about survival. When do you know that who you are is just a survivor?
This mornings conversation over coffee was, how do we know if we are following our personal passions or belonging to the personal failure culture? Think about what I am really saying.
In todays world, we are always mindful, trying to thrive on our goals and our ambitions. The ambition is most likely personal our goals coming from a story held deep inside. We can not hide from the facts nor can we run from the emotions we all have. Our makeup is turmoil. It’s a venue of do’s and don’t, can and can’t, should and never. In return we have negotiated with our subconscious and told ourselves that if we can survive it will make it all better. Surviving is doing not a whole lot for our success or for failure for that matter. It’s liken to a mannequin who stands naked in a store window until its dressed, then and only then is there a story. We are just that a naked human who decides every day to wake up, get ready to succeed or fail, then undresses once again. If we go about our day dodging bullets are we failing? What about the opposite, standing in front of the bullets to feel success?
I think we have found a whole new way of doing things and it’s called standing in the middle. We have become survivors and not to a positive end. When we follow along disallowing the chance to learn we are only surviving. We value the acts of not doing over the acts of learning from our consequences and challenges. It’s time for change. I’ve always believed in choices made, challenges accepted and the follow through of change. Change happens when we make a different choice. Change happens when we get out of the middle and make a decision to follow through, to learn more about ourselves. Are we too big, too small, too inconsistent, always living through another? We do and we do so, to survive.
Time out everyone. Take a breath and breathe in something that could change you. It doesn’t have to be something big or magnificent. It could be as small as learning to fail at something you thought was your right to be. Choices are all around us and choice doesn’t include just surviving. It doesn’t mean drafting along behind someone else who tends to be bigger in personality or worth. It’s about being real to your truth.
The conversation could have gone on but sometimes truth is a bitter cup of coffee in the morning. So today I will learn to fail to find my strengths. I will become small to see myself as a bigger person with honest goals. I will no longer just survive by getting through the day. I will become the day, the moment or the second when I tell myself I am not a survivor but a truth slayer.
I don’t have to be anything more than real, passionate and able to persuade myself to follow through, though failure and success. To keep moving, keep trying, for life is nothing more than an education in success and failure. Because to stand still in the middle will only get you run over.
The stories we tell, the tales we wind, as we search for a truth to reveal. Where do our stories come from? Are they real, in a matter of fact way? Do we have reason to be true or hold secrets deep beneath the surface of our conscious mind.
We all have secrets, untold stories of revelry. Where we are the true heroes and everyone one else the villain. Stories of doubt, submission and misery. We are not the undo cause of our forlorn for we are the heroes. We are the character that befriends the unfriendly and becomes king. We are also the slave, slaves to the mind where our stories grow and bloom for anyone that will hear.
Is the truth worth revealing? A simple yet factual truth that is meant to bring forth joy, once it’s revealed. Is it better hidden, built upon small indifferent lies or mere tales too sweeten the pot for another ears to hear. Does it make you look brave? Maybe unaware to the villain until you are saved by a hero.
Does life get better with the stories we tell or can the truth prevail? Worthy of an audience we tell one true rendering in hopes of being saved. There really is no judge or jury only the predicament we placed ourselves in the bearer of the story.
Shall we stand today and voice our consciousness into submission. Tell a simple few shareholders a truth about ourselves never before spoken. There is no reason to reason the why this story began but to only give it an ending so a new story can begin.
Woodstock. Three days of peace and love, where no one noticed any difference. No one cared if you wore clothes or what clothes you wore. People hugged, kissed, danced and meditated on nothing more than music.
We, yes I was there, slipped and slid in the mud, played in the rivers and streams and never wondered where we would go next. The music took us into a dance of the heart. The energy of each singer rejoiced in the moment. Love loved through all of us.
We went home in a daze, unaware of what could have taken place and for that matter we didn’t care. We had loved, danced and learned about the heart of what matters and that is simply people.
I long for that moment again, a moment that will never be. We are not that simple, nor direct in our desires for peace. The type of peace that comes with no strings attached.
I am honoured to have been there, to have discovered my fellow humans in the dance. Where have we gone and where do we hide.
Let’s come together again, not like we did then yet in a new presence of peace, love and being groovy.
No more war we chanted. No more war. Hug your neighbour see them for who they are and that is, just humans in a dance of joy.
I’m not done yet. I won’t even take the time to define me. I am undefinable. You can try but I will describe myself differently. You may say I am old and you could be right. I will let you know that age is a number and my number isn’t up yet. Ask me, ask me to describe myself. I would paint you a picture with soluble paint. I would change my clothes often, smile different, be thoughtful and kind even though you say I look angry. Interpretation is a mystical thing.
Mirror, mirror make me a wish. Can you ask the mirror to do that? When does the fear come and colour your mirror foggy or grey? Does it make you look fat, skinny, sad or happy? Is your mirror truthful?
I am a changeling, life doesn’t define me only I can describe me. Believe there is always a way, always a choice, always a chance to change the definition you give yourself. Believe in the human, understand the desires of the spirit, breathe in the soul.
Do not label, define or indulge in the judgements of mankind. We are unique, we are beautiful and we are still misunderstood.
If the clothes are to small, the mind is too tight.
Everything you wear is not suitable for every occasion.
How do you choose?
Do you decide based on expectation?
Maybe a judgment on what you wore before?
Somebody comment on it?
BE who you are.
Allow for sway on either end of the decision.