“Museum Mind”
Listen…
I woke up.
Never from sleep or from stories.
From scripts and skits handed down by fear by doubt by voices dressed up as truth
See my mind was a museum, full of exhibits labeled “Stay small”“Play safe”“Know your place”
And for years I walked those halls like a tourist in my own cage.
As awareness showed up with a crowbar and a flashlight
Suddenly the glass cracked.
The displays shattered
The mannequins of old identities dissolving their hold their poses anymore
Now I’m awakened Aware
Never interested in rehearsing the same tired skit for an audience that doesn’t even exist
I’m the one writing the stage
The one questioning the narrator
The one bold enough to burn the script and skits to instantly trust the wisdom rising from the ashes.
So if I seem different,
it’s because I stopped memorizing who I was told to be.
And started remembering who I am.
The museum is closed.
I am the masterpiece freely strolling of my desired lifestyle
Mind Museum
“Get My Hands Dirty Wisdom”
My wisdom got dirt under its nails.
I don’t just think it, I build it, break it, bleed through it, and bring it back better.
See, my spirit isn’t waiting for permission, it’s self-powered, self-guided, autonomous artistry in motion.
Every scar became a signature.
Every lesson became a tool.
Every setback got recycled into fuel.
I’m sassy enough to question the rules, savvy enough to see through the illusion, and savage enough to trust the wisdom I earned with my own two hands being grounded with mother earth wisdom
As I create I dissolves performance
Awakens my power and prowess
Hearkens my inner wisdom xpressing my freeways of health wealth fun and lavish cashflow
That innergizes me internally energizes my intuitive gumption ignites my light of life
Taking flight that turns xperience into art and artistic artistry illuminates my freeway freedom