Every morning there is a choice to be made between light and dark, life and death, sickness and health. Words heal and words destroy. This day, this minute, shall I heal or shall I destroy? The power is in this remarkable organ between my ears.
The body cries inertia. The false death of sleep is so tempting, so comfortable, but life is movement, life is of the soul, life is of giving. Heal thyself, and begin to heal the world.
A choice must be made. Each day you choose life or death, light or dark. No choice is still a choice. The universe, they say, is moving inevitably toward entropy — at some point all energy is used up — but you may use the energy to serve entropy or to build. Life or death, light or dark, building or destruction. So easy it is to destroy — so beautiful it is to build, to preserve beauty, to conserve for later valued use.
Choose to greet the light. Build the fire of warmth, not the fire that burns maliciously. Push and overcome inertia. Life, reach ever higher — crawl, then walk, then dance. All of life is art — what are you creating — what does your dance look like?
Light, not dark. In the dark the sounds are strange and unknown. The light shows its beauty, reveals the joy, unleashes the known, banishes fear, generates knowledge. Serve the light and not the dark. Good morning. Time to wake up.
(Ironically, the light of the computer screen serves the darkness, mesmerizing the viewer, stealing minutes and hours.)
[From my first completed journal, April 16, 2015. I posted this in slightly different form as “Choose your fire today, this minute,” on my old blog, here, and included it in A Bridge at Crossroads. For this post and people interested in how creative choices are made, I restored the original pronoun in the last sentence of the first paragraph and the previously omitted second paragraph, as well as the parenthetical thought at the end.]
