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Thousands of voices hush and his around in a gentle cacophany. Rolling crescendos together before subsiding to near silence again with the rebelious ones at the edges continuing to whisper and sway. Cracks and pops spread across these million acres of untended dirt tell a story about the expanse of this place that compounds what the eyes know.

In a sea of trees, at that particular time when the winds pick up in the afternoon and the sun is warming old bark and dried twigs, the sounds become familiar. When the eyes close it might be an ocean rustling the shore… or the forest lapping at the edges of your mind.

Close your eyes.

In every space there are whispers of a bigger picture. A cup placed up to one ear knows what the ocean waves sound like. Pools filtering over decorative edges have a hint of those grander waterfalls. Clothing brushing furniture has something in common with branches caressing pants and boots in the back woods where furniture is a foreign affair.

And in all of these things is something you need.

However, the particular something must be sought out. Must be caressed from the secrets of the spaces we move through. It’s not all advertising and a dozen sales propositions. This is the skin we laid on top when someone discovered that mythos had died and there was an opportunity to monetize your desire to be.

Be in a place that speaks to you.
Be in a state that settles your soul.
Be in a feeling that give you fire.

Be wherever you want to be and follow the calls and whispers of that space as it echos through the rest of the universe.

Maybe you’re there already.

Maybe you’ve found the particular vibration of cars on pavement that makes you feel alive and you walk to work with a determination. Powerful.

Maybe you’ve found that suburban neighborhood near everything a girl could ask for with the all the comforts of a good home and lawn mowers chortling in the distance under the sound of the drip coffee robot is what makes the day feel pregnant with potential.

Or maybe you’re still looking. Maybe those rustling trees at the corner of 3rd and Main are a tease; your soul yearns for multitudes all talking over one another and yet somehow singing in unison. Maybe the cars whipping along down the hill, filtering their roaring and hissing through closed windows, ALMOST sounds like a good breeze sighing out of the bushes to dance across the waters of a remote lake and if you close your eyes and forget where you are, the faintest memory of an earthy pine smell dances across your consciousness.

It doesn’t really matter.
It absolutely matters.

It matters for you.

Whether you want the cars and the bustle or the silent woodlands you’re right. Whether you want rolling waves or miles of green lawn, you’re right.

It’s never been a question of what you should pick, despite the army of chatty people telling you what features and benefits you’ll get; pulling you by your attention towards this or that ambition. They falsify themselves when they create limited choices that aren’t real because choice is expansive, like the air itself. They belie a preference for themselves when they pretend to give you “the two best options”.

Two is a very small number in a world of infinite potential.

Convenient for the mind, sure. We rarely have the faculty to process thousands of paths, so in a world of noise and clutter, limiting the choice between two roads could be seen as a gift.

And.

Within the frame of that limit is the lie.

Because one step back and there is another frame. Another perspective that sees the dozens of other people giving you two or three options.

And another step back reveals a culture that suggests we should be making frames. A culture that convinces us to convince others so that we can profit, and if everyone gets what they want, what’s the harm?

Potentially none.
Potentially exponential.

If I give you a choice between this or that, within the frame of what I love to do with myself, and don’t support you in your ability to step back, and back, and see the frames within frames, what damage could I have done?

What if the thing that absolutely and most unequivocally feeds your best self is well outside the frames I can offer? Have I just diverted you from something profoundly more valuable? Have I just burnt the paths that would set you more and more free?

They call it a service because that justifies the narrowing of your field of choice.

I’m going to call you towards something deeper.

Back to the hum of the electric fridge that at the right distance might just know a thing or two about beatles buzzing in the summer sun at five thousand feet above sea level where the arid desert produces endless rolling hills of sage and pondorosa pine.

Do you want the fridge, or do you want the pines?
Maybe you want both, and so, what percentage?
How much of each is the perfect blend to your week?
What else would make your time distribution glorious?

Put down the device for a second. Rest your body in a natural way and close your eyes. There’s a voice that doesn’t use words sitting in the center and beneath your everything. A little self with a big gift: they feel for what’s right. What’s aligned. What’s on path. That little voice has answers no marketer can give you; sees all of the frames without sight. Can you hear it? Can you feel it?

Instinct.

It’s in you already.

It might be sleepy or exhausted from the density of our world. It might be crushed and quiet from years of the mind crunching choices like a machine. It might be shy after everyone you ever trusted simply told you what your options were and what to do.

But it’s in there.

Trees or coffee shops.
Home or away.
Gold or silver.

Your instinct sits at the root of your foundation and it knows. And the whispers of it’s wisdom echo through subconscious mind and intuition, through awareness and attention.

Go there. See what you find.

You might be surprised at how decisive you can really be, and how powerful your choices become when the options expand like a wandering free of someone else’s tight frames.

You might find yourself in places you never knew you wanted to be, but that fuel you more profoundly than you could have hoped.

To your Instinct.
To your Choices.
To your Path.

Circa 2015, Cedric and Anawyn
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