I finally saw the man for who he was, underneath the callous front. The squint eyes and lines surrounding, permanently carved from scowl. The dark complexion and piercing stare. He never said much, and when he did it was polluted with negative energy. That guy, me, in the mirror.

I’m finding something within myself that has been brought to surface in recent times. It has been slow and progressive, but the difference is there. My acknowledgment of one simple truth has taken me out of the very real way that I had been before knowing it. I am not my thoughts. This truth has set me on a different course. It has lifted the burden from my everyday struggle to get through a day.

A continuous watching of happening within me as all unfolds– whatever senses bring in and how it travels about the miraculous network I call form. The emotion that arises. The reciprocations. The silences. What comes about is nothing more than an experience happening within a moment. What I do with it is the impetus for the approaching moment. If I’m angry, I’m learning why. If I’m sad, I’m learning why. If I need space, there is an easier way of communicating it to others now that I see the truth.

The lines aren’t deep anymore. My eyes are at rest. I’ve noticed the negative energy has left, in the morning, upon waking in our kitchen. I’m calm. The heartbeat is slow. The shoulders are relaxed. My face is not troubled. I quit the Depakote for mood stabilization months ago, and that feels good. Yes, recognizing that my thoughts were running me is the salvation.

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