Back in Your Box

 196.

A thousand conscious decisions comprise my day. The choices I make define the results. Simple cause and effect. I require little additional evidence that the synergy of mind and body can - will - produce dramatic change. It has always intrigued me that we place such doubt on this phenomena, seeing it somehow as scientific voodoo. If indeed luck is the residue of design, then magic must be the vessel into which it flows. I prefer to believe in magic and the power of mind over - or rather alongside - matter. What purpose is served by cherry-picking the juice and leaving the seed? I am appalled by the muggles who lift the contextual keywords from the Bible or our Constitution to satisfy their dismal worldview. We have two options with every choice, one can expand or one can constrict. Grow or shrink. Go out and face the music or pretend that it doesn't exist. Face your fears or run and hide from them. The magic is in unity not division.

In my allegory yesterday of the three boxes, it became apparent that one of them belonged to someone named Pandora. I naively opened it and took a look inside. What I saw there continues to haunt my consciousness. It wants me to accept my circumstance and surrender. It suggests to me that the battle I am about to fight is unwinable, a lost cause, hopeless. She seductively whispers into my ear, in a direct line to my heart and soul, that I will be better off in the long run should I decide to allow the medical staff to think for me, the empaths to feel for me and the enlightened to guide me. After all the reality is that I am weak, wounded and weary. Just wave that white flag and surrender to the easy way, floating down the path of nothingness, numb and dumb. It is, she insists, what the bulk of humanity does in similar situations. We'll take away all the pain and you will never feel another tug at a heart-string or stirring in your soul. There will be no questions which need solving, you need to seek nothing. There will be no risk. No change. No fear. You won't have to waste your precious time thinking about the metaphysical, the moral or the social, we've done all that and found the answer. Tap out. Give up. Dummy down.

"You are questioning my soul, my very spirit. Perhaps you forgot that I am a warrior and will never give up, never surrender. To an enemy or to a corrupt agenda. The minute I compromise my code, to even the slightest degree, it becomes all the easier to do it again, and then it becomes habitual. I refuse to live a life of compromise. So I will offer to you, in as tactful a rhetorical response as I decide to apply, this in response;

Get back in your box bitch."