As I lay my head to rest, and the world becomes warm and fuzzy. I hear your whisper, that part deep inside that is drowned out by the noise of life. I have such strong intentions to sit in stillness but I am too busy. Ego is in control, and ego is forging onwards. He has a battle strategy to defend against those seeing my most vulnerable wounds that would make me a target. He sits in the throne of my mind, wielding his sceptre, strong, determined and with impenetrable armour, effortlessly directing thoughts and worries to guide and protect. But as the darkness of night falls his eyes are heavy and he slips into a dreamy slumber. Then out of the dark pop two sparking lights, each pulsing and echoing a message from deep within, so soft and quiet I strain to hear, it says I must change direction, but it will take courage. Ego shifts in his chair, muttering restlessly in his sleep and I feel his resistance. But once again the whisper comes and I sit with this feeling, this alternate choice, and see it burst like fireworks of happiness and relief. The morning will come again and ego will resume his position but I will not forget those messages, and I will secretly listen tonight when ego sleeps agains.

Ruslan Dudaev - the Ego

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