On Hope And The Power Of Potential

I sit in a cafe at my usual Monday morning spot. Ideas, dreams, opportunities circle around me.

I can’t touch them but they’re there. There’s little to suggest they’ll manifest into any tangible form either - nothing except my own trust and a dose of self-will perhaps (if you believe in such a thing).

Maybe it’s that word ‘faith’ even! Faith in my own powers, in God, in the Universe, in my abilities to decipher right from wrong.

It’s clear to me, also, that their manifestation is not actually important, per se. The potential of them is much more vital than their end product. The dream, by harnessing it’s own potential for reality, BECOMES reality.

Without even declaring it, the magic circling around me describes a very potent and real kind of existence; one that I bathe in for an hour or so before moving on with the rest of my day.

It seems that we live in a world of stories; those stories, by merely existing, become reality even though they are not fully lived ‘reality’ itself. If there is something, anything, that separates human beings from animals then it’s perhaps this very thing: to create a fiction (or story) that’s greater than reality.

We have a remarkable ability to predict, create and play out imaginative scenarios that, in turn, our lived physical realities eventually become. Sometimes it’s fiction first, THEN reality… not necessarily the other way around.

By sitting (or standing) still, one can observe the dreams, ideas and creations that a human body and mind creates naturally. Without effort. Without trying. It is part of our nature - to manifest that which is yet to happen and perhaps never will. By inventing the possibility we open the door for reality.

That is the great paradox of conscious reality after all; that it’s always temporary, finite, already passing, and at the same time it is multiplying in it’s forever-evolving truths, perspectives and possibilities.

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