Story time

I settle in for the night and pick up a book to read. My mind begins to wander. I nestle into the book with more focus and turn the pages. Yet my mind continues to remind me of affairs of the day, events of the week, ills of my life. The attempts at concentration are just that. Attempts. No matter how hard I try the thoughts becomes louder voices echoing in my mind of missed opportunities, failed misadventures, and painful memories. I close my eyes to block out the intruders, to no avail. I begin to breath heavy, and my heart pounds faster. The sweat on my brow appears as if I have walked through the rain. I drop my book. I know that my predicaments are self made. The cycle must be broken or I risk it to continue at my peril.

I must regain control. And so I begin to meditate. In the middle of the storm of mental gunfire, the only one who can take control of both sides of the war that is waging within is me. I do this with my breathing. The only thing that goes with me at all times and with every pulse. I quickly access this tool, and begin to breath deep, long and hard. I shift the gear and the pace, to slow it down and breathe deep and long, and then breathe slower and more naturally. My pulse has returned to its original beat, having been derailed by my mind. My thoughts once again begin their tireless task of upsetting my attempt to regain control. Yet the anger begins to subside as does the fear of my stories written into my psyche throughout my life.

With deeper and deeper breaths I let go of all that ails me with love. I offer love to every facet of hardship and every aspect of failure that I have encountered. The howling winds of my thoughts have died down to a gentle breeze. The torrent of emotion has remained now but a gentle lap on the shores of my mind. I open my eyes to a new wisdom and I brew a new balance into my life. I need not read a book for distraction tonight to put me to sleep , as I welcome the visitor of rest within my heart, mind, body and soul. The visitor brings peace as I no longer hold onto the stories of my life.

Moral of the story. We are keenly aware of the stories of our lives that continue to play out night after night, day after day like the magnificent shows on Broadway. Exactly the same, each show cannot be distinguished from its prior event. So too the drama of our lives of misadventures, banter of relationships, unexpected circumstances all play like endless stories, page after page, moment after moment, year after year, life time after lifetime. The time to stop reliving the drama and putting the book down is now. We have the ability to do just this at any point in our lives.

Are you brave enough to drop your story? Are you even braver to share your story with others?
I love you

Author: Brown Knight

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