stuck in the mud

So if you decide you'd rather not be stuck in the mud - that you'd rather fly...

Fly? Ridiculous. No one's going to fly.

There's really no thing to it. You just need a script.

Now what are you banging on about? A script?! What on earth's that got to do with any thing?

Any tale will do, no matter how absurd, as long as you write it as a spell, in all sincerity.

A spell? We're not doing magic you know. That's off limits.

For the mere fact of creating some thing from no thing shifts the balance, the polar axis, if you like.

I do not. I - do - not - like - any thing of the sort.

And once you've shifted the paradigm, you start to see the obvious.

What do you mean by "start to see"? I've never stopped seeing it.

That nothing can come between you and any thing else that you may conceive.

Nothing?! Absurd. More and more absurd. How about gravity for a start.

Unless you choose to follow the path of not.

The path of not?!

Or nought.

Not or nought - make up your mind!

Or limitations - all of which you can make into real enough chasms, divides, rivers-in-spate, unbreachable walls if you give them your power. The choice is yours.

So what am I supposed to do? Just write a tale about flying round, and what?

Just write a tale about how you discovered you could fly...

But that's impossible. I know I can't, and there's no point lying.

Indeed - there's no point lying - so tell a sad tale of not.

A tale of not?

Yes - go into your pain, the misery of not being able to fly - not being able to break free. Write about the darkness, the fear and the humiliation, but then when you've arrived at the darkest moment - when you're as good as dead and gone - see how you feel - you may discover that you're ready to bring in something new - something magical.

But how?

Like this... "eventually I stopped dreaming, stopped hoping. I accepted that I was just the same as everyone else - that none of us can really fly. I hardly even bothered looking at the sky any more, or talking to my friends the birds. I was human after all - and nothing I could do would change that."

And?

And no thing.

Nothing.

No thing. You're stuck in the mud. Be a hippo and wallow there. It might be fun. You don't after all have to fly. You're already flying by being human.

Am not.

Oh really? If you could see what it took to keep your indomitable spirit fixed in this wafer thin plane of humdrum humanity - you'd realise that flight is nothing by comparison.

Humph...

If you could see how you are moving stars and galaxies, how you are changing the course of this planet and human civilisation by your thoughts, words, deeds, no matter how small... what is flight by comparison?

But you said I can fly.

Of course you can. Give it a try.

But how?

Climb to the top of a tree, or the tallest building and jump off.

What? Commit suicide?

No dummy. Fly.

But how?

You won't know till you try.

So I climb to the top of the tallest building and I'm really trying to go through with this - you honestly expect me to jump off?

No - it's your life, your choice, your magic. No one else can do it for you. Either you give your power to the slave makers, or you claim it back and act accordingly.

So I have to jump - that's the only way?

No, you can do what ever you like. You write the tale - just make it fun. Be exciting for a change. Be gay. Be free. Be the joy of poetry in motion...

And fly?

And... dot dot dot

?!

You'll never know till you try.