Once upon a time there was a story. The story had been waiting for very many years to escape the bonds chafing it. It was not a big story – just a little seed but it was capable of growing as large as an oak. If it were given a little sunshine, a little rain and a little love, it would grow beautifully. Of that, the tiny story was sure. But alas the bonds that prevented it from having this rich life, were painful in the extreme. For years, the story told itself that this mind holding it would recognize its own ability to give life. And it also believed that the mind only lacked belief in itself to go on. But wasn’t it time to let go of non-belief? When would the story be released? An idea has a right to live independent of its author since every idea leaves a footprint and has a presence.
The story was nearing its last days for you cannot deny life forever to a pulsating thought. It would die and with it the hope that one day the mind would find out what its true worth was. Negativity was its greatest enemy. It controlled the mind that gave birth to the story – so much so that the mind no longer recognized its own child. All the ‘cannots’ piled up over time suffocated the story and as it lay buried alive, its only hope lay in the thought that even now there was a glimmer of a chance that its mother would see it and rescue it and bring it forth in the world like she had promised herself all those years ago...
