Wishful thinking:
Pleasing to imagine.
Far from reality.
My mom once said we’re built on our thoughts, our thoughts become us, who we are. I’ve had enough experience for knowing that she was right; no matter how harsh the truth was, her words were true.
The jealousy we nurture, the contempt we opt for, the hatred we spread, we become them.
Wishful thinking does the same, I think so.
The thoughts based on imaginations, cravings, and wishes become strong over the years and reach a point where there’s no going back, there are no other “normal” thoughts, in turn, no fuel for reasonable and pragmatic actions.
A wishful thought feeds on your weaknesses, your obsessions- on what you want but you do not have, cannot have. It ignites an automatic defense system in you which if anyone ever attacks or belittles your supposed “thought”, you snap and safeguard the little world that you’ve created inside your head.
Why am I penning all these down?
Lately, I realized that I’ve my own seemingly little, but absolutely wide world of wishful thoughts. And today, I discerned how dangerous and toxic it is for me.
For years now I’ve been running after something which only existed in my head. It wasn’t real, let alone practical. I took a little pause from it today while scrolling through Instagram and heard a little voice laughing out loud in me. Maybe that was my conscience. (I’m pretty damn sure it was.)
Thoughts can only become cages or keys, I realized.
If they are keys, they help you rise like the sun, if cages, you’ll find yourself burning in the fire of hell every single moment. I knew what I was going through wasn’t liberating; it was pretty near suffocating. That’s when I perceived I need to transform this cage into a key, somehow, anyhow.
Each thought we have is an energy packet with so much of everything that it shares some of it with our souls. And it has to be this way; our creator couldn’t have given us so much and add a little something to control our thoughts infinitely, indefinitely, and inevitably. This universe is real to us and we need to define “reality” for ourselves.
In reality, the body is flesh and the soul, eternal; that has to remain. We cannot just reverse this fact because “we’re wishful thinkers.”
In times of morose or hatred or anger, we cannot just snap our ties from the “real reality” and craft our own just because it seems comforting and easy.
Embrace who you really are and not what you think you could have been.
I have always sought magic in my life, not a wondrous fairytale, but magic that would drift me away from the harsh reality that my profession demands me to face.
