A Narrative

The shift in consciousness is revealing many things, but what I have noticed the most is the onset of stories I tell myself throughout the day.

I catch myself doing it several times a day: the self-talk that leads me down the fictional paths of imagination. A thought enters my mind, I take off in a habitual manner and form a narrative that is really not a true one, and the anxiety takes root. It has happened over and over throughout the past several weeks, but I am noticing it every time it happens now. Before, the thoughts would orchestrate a false situation that I would unconsciously follow, and before I knew it, I had fallen for its deceptive production. I do not know what the future truly holds, yet my mind sometimes believes that it does.

An ongoing lesson is unfolding as each moment passes, and that overall lesson is to become aware of what goes on within my mind.

Once I had recognized that thoughts can be observed, the onset of catching them when they first arise (the deceptive thoughts; the false narratives that I concoct; the thoughts that lead to feelings and unwanted emotions) has been a progressive process. As the practice of being the silent observer was in the beginning stages, more narratives made their way through my conditioned way. My conditioned mind. In other words, the way I had always drowned in my anxiety and eventual depression–the habitual practice I had always known–still played its aggressive game of hardball. I was still very vulnerable to those old behaviors. As time went on and continues, the practice of being the silent watcher became/has become more distinct. More frequently, I have been able to align the observation with those thoughts that constantly pass before me. When the delusional narratives come, I now spot them before they take over.

This lesson was never taught in school. It had never been a necessity in our society. What a shame it is to have gone all of those years in some form of pain that could have been prevented. Although, all of the suffering has led me to the present.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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