This morning I reflected about how life is going right now.  I am positive and have manifested my desires, which are pure and sensible and good for all.  There is a switch, however, in my subconscious mind.  It’s an OFF switch, one that I stay clear of.  I am better at ignoring that switch than I have ever been in my life.  But it is still there.  And I want it gone.

   The switch is on a wall, embedded into the rock that was laid over it after it had been secured by sixteen custom screws.  I discovered the unique screw heads after chipping away that rock.  No screwdriver anywhere was going to fit.  I had to go to Egotown and ask to use the foundry.  (Egotown is located in my subconscious world, not too far from the marina I sail in with the wonderful people from my childhood.)  I was shown how to pour a mold from the model that the foreman at the foundry had me take of the screw heads.  Then he showed me how to forge the metal to make the driver.  I spent long hours heating and pounding.  Then I delicately smoothed the driver head to the shape needed.  I lathed a handle, and machined some gears to make this screwdriver work in multiple speeds so that I could have the power I needed to remove the switch, as it had been there a long, long time and was well set into the metal plate it was attached to.    

   It was easy enough to walk up to the switch and begin to remove the screws.  But as I did so the earth from beneath my feet fell downward.  I held on to the side of what was now a cliff edge, my body dangling hundreds of feet above the bottom.  There was something in my subconscious that did not want me to remove the switch.  But that something was not as strong as I am now.  Whatever the reasoning, that something was not founded on love and preservation.  It was not good. 

  I decided I was simply not going to let this negative force keep me from removing what did not serve me.  I ran back to Egotown and retrieved a ladder.  I stretched that ladder across the divide and confidently walked to the wall.  I stood there, two hundred feet above the ground, and began removing those sixteen screws.  As I did the ground came closer to me. The screws were difficult, but my new tool held firm.  While removing the last screw I no longer needed the ladder.  I pulled the switch from the wall and cut the wires.  They fought back, for as I cut they crimped one way and the next, causing my cutters to slip.  I bent each wire with my fingers as slivers of cut strands reached out to penetrate my skin.  I bled, and I cut, and I bled again.  The switch was removed completely. 

   I took a new plate, one I had cut to cover the hole left from that OFF switch I so wanted to remove from this subconscious world, and I secured it to the wall.  Then I laid in a slice of rock to match the face of the wall.  I dropped the switch into a vat of molten metal at the foundry and poured the metal into a concrete box, then buried the box out in an empty field. 

I’m on for good. 

Chris Plante

September 21, 2018