Imagination is the tool to shift your reality: prompt
Self-Actualizing Inner Workings of Planted Seeds Giving Birth to New Realities
Decades of preparing, reclaiming who we truly are
There is a stirring of uneasy feelings or sensory overload of energetic beings presenting glimpses into an idea taking form. Seed planting decades ago — watered and cultivated through the darkest of moments, waiting for the right time to give birth to a new way of living.
The time is now — after digging up old dirt, replacing it with fresh earth and new daily practices — often looked upon as weird or non-conformed, slowly becoming more acceptable for a coming out of ideas. Uncertainty about what may come to be — quietly, patiently waiting for the imaginary senses to kick in, accepting that this has been The Way all along.
Like the time before — stepping into the light of day for the first stage of self-transforming without fully understanding what is happening, trusting the process of a complete metamorphosis of self — going into darkness, chrysalis, and dissolving every cell of remembrance as to how things ought to be.
Once forgotten gift — imaginary transmuted thoughts into brighter reality within our day-to-day, believing there is more — than a fixed outcome from dawn to dusk — crowning begins like a baby greeting the world for the first time, tasting the sweetest of fruits, planted pre-wintery hibernation into the darkest of days.
Giddy and silly — daily routine begins to shift — taking more time for self-healing moments and shedding the dust accumulating upon our sandals. Sitting, contemplating — accepting something greater — springing forth a new idea handed down from the creative process held by cosmic proportions.
Holding space — self-healing light — expanding to familial and ancestral timelines — further into the community’s broken estimation — follow-up needed with every breath sitting in sacred fashion. We are healed — we are whole — we are holy — we are one.
~ Ani Po
When I was a child, my imagination was free to create and roam in other realities, while others began forcing my hand into their realities. Dropping a seed of remembrance into a time capsule for an older self to find a well-nourished reality.
Watered by stories of others, following what the others told me to do. Pain stirring in self as traumatic events followed my every step. I did whatever the others told me to be ‘normal.’
Through years of physical and mental pain, spiritual death was knocking at my door. I would open this door and see who is there.
It was my younger self, or older soul if that is what is believed, inviting me to take a walk into the Great Canvas of Life — witnessing colors spread with a magical brush, through darkened periods and into a golden age yet to present itself.
We walked through self-doubting Thomas’ story-lines until left at the crossroads of life. Do we go down the path that everyone follows, or do we travel the path for ourselves? Self it is, as we became I and I alone walking uncharted roads, becoming we once again but in a different light.
The ground disappears — walking through space itself — into a time of complete creation of self-realizing thought. Comets whipping by, spirits whispering admiration, expanding golden rays once present, before birthing a physical self.
Hallucinating or make-believe matters not what others think. It is time to create a new reality that fits inside and outside this boxed reality presented by the collective. I believe.
Like the big bang of old, written in texts of our existence, clarity is at hand, and all the story-lines come to a head, fusing into all existence of self-made knowing as truth not to be understood by all but becoming the all.
Leaving the door open to the others, allowing access if they wish, we sit in the center of a Great Canvas that has no beginning and no end.
Thank you Jean Carfantan for this prompt, allowing my mind expansive fields to roam and for taking me on my own self-reflection of the path leading us home.
