What if?

Nothing ruins a perfectly good day like “what if?”.

What if…? What if…?

What if today, I didn’t let it?

What if today, I tried to take a deep breath instead of reacting?

What if today, I remember how much power my thoughts truly have and choose accordingly?

What if I’m a radio, and my thoughts are the songs?

What if I choose other stations?

What if there is more than meets the eye, and there are worlds within worlds that I know nothing about?

What if I ask bigger questions than petty anxiety?

What if I’m not as important as I swear I am?

What if the key to getting out is going in?

I swear, inspiration can only come when I clean those dirty windows. Every time I tag I before something, the power it has increases immensely. I am tired, I am anxious, I am this and I am that. It’s like squeezing myself in a tiny box of I when all I want is everything that is not I.

Isn’t it weird how we can only identify ourselves by things that aren’t? I may like writing, but am I writing? Sometimes, I can’t tell if I’m the one writing or if writing is just happening. But I swear, the best writing is when it’s not me. and Yet….

The more I ask who I am, the less sense of self I have. Did anyone choose the name they filter the world through?

If I believe I chose incarnation, it leads me to believe it’s all worth it. Sometimes, that’s enough to quiet things down long enough to hear myself breathe. That inhale and exhale reminds me that I must be doing something right.

What if I am being breathed as much as I am breathing? What if I am writing as much as I am being written? Is life a scripted play or a choose your own adventure?

What if there’s more to everything then what I believe?

What if we’re all superheroes with latent abilities? What if I could be some kind of covert assassin whose cooking has mind control capabilities? What if anything I write comes true?

What if there’s so much more around the corner than all the things I believe are true?

The most powerful word in the English language is yet.

Maybe I have no superpowers – yet. Maybe my writing is jibberish and nobody cares – yet. Maybe I’m not sane – yet. But who can be sane in a world that runs on opposite day? What’s true today can be untrue tomorrow. And yet, we persist as though truth is the one force outside of evolution. And yet, we are proven wrong time and time again. There was a time the earth was flat, and speaking otherwise was heresy.

I wonder if the antidote to “what if” is yet? The difference between kids and adults is that adults think they’re right, and kids don’t care if they’re wrong. Nothing fuels imagination like endless possiblities, but I’ve never seen a grown man squirm like when any truth is unraveled with yet. I remember an argument I got into where I asserted the truth we heard was a lie, not because I had facts, but because I spend so much time reading fiction. I was the crazy one until I was right.

What if today, I can remember anything and everything is on the other side of yet? There’s just so much I don’t know.

Yet.

And yet, the inhales and exhales will come – regardless of what I think on the matters.

Signed,

2.5 cups of coffee, a morning panic attack, and gnawed off fingernails

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