This Little Light of Mine

The lies I tell myself are all that keep me going. More than that, they are all that I have. Is there anything but self-deception?

Yes and no. To say everything is a lie misses the mark. Is anything ever that simple? Yes and no. Truth is a whole. Splitting it makes paradox, and yet we are splitters. Our words are like the blade of an axe, chopping down entire forests one definition at a time.

If there is an objective truth, it is this: we make our own realities, our own truths, out of the infinite potential of our source material, out of the absolute, transcendent sum. Universe: turned into one. We are fireflies in the dark, able to proceed only by the glow of our own light.

Everything I think I know is filtered by everything I think I know. Graciously, I have a degree of choice in the matter. Exerting even the tiniest influence on my belief structure changes everything I perceive.

Accepting the existence of this choice allows us to blossom into our power as creators. From that starting point, all our beliefs are possible, true, defensible, irrefutable, safe. Taken as true, this axiom begs a question: Why not live in a better reality?

It’s your life. You just have to decide to start seeing it that way.

This entry was posted in Journal, Prose and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s