Words have so much power. In fact, its influence, though invisible, is undeniable. Like the moon’s, whose invisible-to-the-eye, gravitational pull generates a tidal force and causes the beautiful ocean’s waves; the same way, words that we have heard and met, serve as a pull; a pull towards the submission of its realization. Anyone who has lived in an environment where negative or positive words were cradled, is familiar with its creative power.
I have come to also see how the absence of words, can create a void, despite what can be used to fill that place. My bedroom worlds were filled with words, I wonder until today if my foster family, ever heard my triumphant words while playing an African princess pleading for her people, or a defense attorney whose magnificent closing argument won the jury and the prosecution team. I may have to ask them, or maybe we will never know.
As powerful as words are, a word by itself does not have much power until it is met by a receiver and is accepted or approved; in other words, for anything to influence you, at least when it comes to words, two actions need to follow your proximity to the words: you, hearing it, then you, doing something about it. This very complex notion comes to us naturally and we often miss its life-altering power. Again, this blog is not a psychological journal and I do not claim to be an expert or a psychologist; however, I have come across this peculiar place several times in my life, this place that if we read too fast, think too fast, and move too fast (as it is promoted in our society) we would clearly miss. Between our hearing and our response, is our belief system, our mind, and how we process the information that we have received; and that’s where things become very interesting. In part 1 of this blog, I spoke about my worlds, fantasies, and imaginary stories, and how this unreal place, felt more authentic and kept the real me at bay. Yes indeed, the fragile but tough-looking teen I was, somehow, that little girl’s mind chose to select what would be the authentic self and what would just be the unfortunate story. You see the worlds in my bedroom were like walls, strong and tall walls, protecting me from the real world, that constantly reminded me of my unfortunate situation: 12 years old, leaving away from her family, relentlessly searching, and looking to be loved and appreciated. To be seen is really all I ever wanted when I was that teenager.
These walls, my fantasies, served as a defensive mechanism and almost came alive each time I would draw near my foster home, almost as the family I did not have. The worlds of my bedroom, became my safe place. It became my home within the house. I was not necessarily a converted-religious person but there was something very “spiritual” in my unconscious ability to select who I could decide to be, to become when in my bedroom.
We are in a world where many different, often contradicting, messages about ourselves can be shared or even said, and if we are not cautious, the outside information about us can become our reality, but what if they are not true? What if all you hear about you, or all the words that are being entertained around you, are not truthful? What if your experience and reality sum up to nothing good?
Today, many are being buried under the words of condemnation, they are hiding away from the harsh fingers pointing at them. More and more, the ability to select what is important and valid to us is crucial. As an adult today, I have seen enough of life to understand how important the latter is. Oh! How thankful I am for the worlds in my bedroom; like a muscle, they have worked, got stronger, and helped me to make a clear difference between what is being said and what is. They helped me see that often, your reality may be the dream and your dream the real you. Despite what I have seen in this life, nothing has been able so far to alter my ability to select or I would say my ability to dream.
What’s even more incredible, is that though I was not necessarily a religious person, as noted earlier, somehow what my subconscious knew about who I was, was a lot closer to my divine self or who I was designed to be. As a Christian today, I believe that though we can work hard and forge our path, there is still a divine pull towards a divine purpose, a purpose whose fulfillment is the only thing that will quench our eternal insatiable emptiness. That feeling that, even after you have banked all the billions you can, and have reached the most followers anyone would dream of; that feeling of: “ there must be something else, there must be more”. Well, I believe that feeling can only be filled when one can start the quest and find the essence of their existence. Many can find it later in life, however, finding it early in life set you up for greatness, and by greatness, not necessarily according to what society can define as great but rather great because you are more aware and walking towards a greater purpose! You have discovered and have started to walk in that purpose. Now, this demands a very intentional inner work and time, however, the start of the journey or a very important component of the journey is having a selective mind.
The divine in us has a lot more power than we give it credit; the divine in me created a bubble where I could be who I was meant to be despite where I was. Most successful people in this world, and again, I am not gaging success according to the criteria of our society per se, but as noted earlier, by success, I mean that you are pursuing and accomplishing something bigger than you and that is beneficial to more people than you. So, what these types of individuals have in common, is their ability to dream, to see beyond what their reality is offering them; they dare to see what has not been seen before, they dare to look deep into the insatiable passions of their lives and they often stand against all odds, and the limitations of their reality and where most would see a stop sign, the red lights of life; their worlds, their fantasy, the pull of their imagination will strongly magnet them into a place where they would then select to believe what they know they can instead of what they are being told. You see, a selective mind is more than just a bedroom fairytale, it is the creed of the greats.
My story about the worlds of my bedroom, the sanctuary for my dreams, is more than just a period in the life of a quite lonely adolescent. Rather, it is the birth of an ability that would transcend the odds of life, a place where the divine would occasionally meet the mundane and anchor its strong and authentic grip; a hold to serve as a reminder of the utmost truth: that a selective mind is a key to stepping into who we really are and clearly knowing who we are not. The woman I am today is forever grateful for the challenges and impossible situations that served as an opportunity to unveil and tap into the divine; slowly planting in me the seed to understand that what we choose to believe and entertain has a lot more influence than our reality. My bedroom, my sanctuary, a selective mind, saved my fragile life.
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