I dream that I love everything about my life. I dream that each event I have ever experienced or will ever experience is precious and glorious, even the painful interludes.
I dream that I have personal possession of the universe’s most monumental and mysterious accomplishment: “consciousness.”
I have a visceral insight about the mercurial flash and shimmer that ceaselessly whirls around inside my head: It’s miraculous. I can think thoughts any time I want to—soaring, luminescent, flamboyant thoughts or shriveled, rusty, burrowing thoughts . . . thoughts that can invent or destroy, corrupt or redeem, bless or curse.
There’s more. I can revel and wallow in great flows of feelings. It’s ultimately irrelevant whether they are poignant or intoxicating or somewhere in between. I simply relish the fact that I can harbor so much intensity. I cherish the privilege of commanding such extravagant life force.
And maybe the best part is being in possession of a prodigiously potent magical tool: an imagination. I can use it to change and shape the way my thoughts and feelings unfold. It potentially gives me the power to treat every single one of my experiences as a door leading to infinity.
–Robert Breszny
