The Storytelling of a Dead Man

Flower Dew

You are a living entity, a creature of beauty and grace that flows from moment to moment. You are a living movement, the indescribable breath of life, or wave of life, or whatever you might want to call it. This is a fact, and has nothing to do with what one might believe to be true.

If I look at you and see  a certain kind of person, a person that has hurt me or a person not to be trusted, and I believe those stories, I am dead. I am dead because I am looking at you in a limited way, which is not really looking at all. I might see an image of you, build up my story and so on, but I am not seeing you as you are.

This is the seeing - the storytelling - of a dead man.

The story I build is dead because it is solid and constricting. It does not give you the chance to live. If you have hurt me in some way, I will carry that with me. Then when we meet again, I will not see you, but the memory of the hurt you previously put upon me, so I am stuck in this charade of life. I use the past to see, which has nothing to do with seeing and has nothing to do with you. You might have lived a different life in one million different ways since the last time we met, and yet I still see you with the memory of one incident that may not have happened at all.

It may have been true that someone was a thief, that someone could not really be trusted, and so on. But even so, you do not need to build a story about it. One does not need to carry around the burden of the past.

Any limitation I place on you is clearly my own deficiency. It is born from the things I cannot let go; all the past stories I pull from a holster to use as a weapon.

Human beings are creatures of freedom, living lives of confinement. I will not contribute to that confinement.