Consider this, old friend.
When the body falters — a twinge here, a stiffness there, a dull, unshakable ache — watch how awareness rushes toward it, pulled as if by a secret magnetic current.
The mind leans in, wraps itself around that single point of discomfort, and before long… You are no longer observing the pain. You are lost in it.
Consider this: when the body is disturbed, the mind rarely stands serene. No — it adopts the mood. A shadow drapes itself over your thoughts.
When you slip on orange-tinted glasses, the whole world turns orange. Wear grey ones, and the day dims, the air grows dreary.
This inner tint seeps outward, quietly coloring perception. The mind alters the very texture of reality.
But notice what unfolds when the pain recedes, when the body loosens its grip. The clouds part as if on cue. The sky deepens to a bluer blue, the air turns silk against your skin, the sun pours over you like warm gold.
I ask you....
Has the world truly shifted? Has the great screen of existence moved an inch?
Life is a grand cinema, old friend, and the mind is its tireless projectionist. If the film runs dark, the scenery will follow.
So step away from the booth and let the conditioned palettes dry on their shelves.
Refuse to keep repainting the scenery.
And in that detachment, you may glimpse the original light — pure, untinted, and boundless.
When the body falters — a twinge here, a stiffness there, a dull, unshakable ache — watch how awareness rushes toward it, pulled as if by a secret magnetic current.
The mind leans in, wraps itself around that single point of discomfort, and before long… You are no longer observing the pain. You are lost in it.
Consider this: when the body is disturbed, the mind rarely stands serene. No — it adopts the mood. A shadow drapes itself over your thoughts.
When you slip on orange-tinted glasses, the whole world turns orange. Wear grey ones, and the day dims, the air grows dreary.
This inner tint seeps outward, quietly coloring perception. The mind alters the very texture of reality.
But notice what unfolds when the pain recedes, when the body loosens its grip. The clouds part as if on cue. The sky deepens to a bluer blue, the air turns silk against your skin, the sun pours over you like warm gold.
I ask you....
Has the world truly shifted? Has the great screen of existence moved an inch?
Or did the projector change its reel?
Life is a grand cinema, old friend, and the mind is its tireless projectionist. If the film runs dark, the scenery will follow.
So step away from the booth and let the conditioned palettes dry on their shelves.
Refuse to keep repainting the scenery.
And in that detachment, you may glimpse the original light — pure, untinted, and boundless.
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