Switch Mental Microphone to “On,” to allow the message to be broadcast around the barn and beyond:
“Hello folks, it’s wonderful to meet you. If I could talk–that is, in a language that humans understand–I would tell you the following: They call me With-A-Twist, but I’d like you to understand that such is not actually What I Am. They could have called me Fancy Pants or Lancelot, and it wouldn’t have made one whit of difference. You don’t have to be the smartest horse in the paddock to understand that a name cannot possibly be What you are. As much as people might like to assume that I’m just a horse, I’d like you to know that I Am an expression of The Divine Creator. Newflash: So are You.
My other horse friends and I are happy for just “BEing;” that’s because we don’t have a nag in our head–the little “i”–that would pretend to be otherwise. From what I understand about the ego, it’s the false self that often has you folks running around in circles for no particular reason. Rumour has it that the ego will cause you to say silly stuff, like–“When I was President of the world…”–just to impress other egos. Me, I’m happy just to Be.
Lately, I’ve noticed that you humans seem inordinately preoccupied with fear. You allow fear to rule your minutes, hours, and days because you believe the almost continuous narrative of the little “i.” Because you don’t recognize your essential nature, you believe that you must protect it. Here’s the rub, folks: It’s just a thought; it’s not “That” which you Are. If you folks were cars, it seems you’d rather rust to death than crash. Not me, I was born to run. I also know that the Essence of That which I Am is immortal and eternal. Worry not, right? “Let not your heart be troubled.”
With-A-Twist backs away from the mental microphone but then steps toward it again:
“Before you go, would you mind unbolting the lock on the stable door? It’easy–just grab the handle and slide to the left. Grab handle, slide to the left. I’d do it myself, but as you can see, I lack the opposable thumbs; fingers, too, for that matter. I’ve been penned up for far too long; and I’m beginning to feel it. I was meant to be outside, mingling with other horses in God’s green acres–know what I mean? Oh, and some oats, a couple of carrots, and an apple would be nice. Thanks.
Dare to dream (and care for one another).
With heartfelt regards,
Copyright © – 2022 – R. Arthur Russell
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