The Thoughts that Dwell Within the Halls of the Mind

Insecurity is an old friend, shielding oneself from the uncertainties of life with a stifling cloak of dreaded futures, a familiar wallowing in the foretold insufficiencies of self.

But, one day, one must lift the veil and, confronting the revelatory light now unencumbered, must sojourn on in freedom

However, man was not made to live alone, and even the most scarring of voices are felt as tragically absent when nothing is left in their wake besides hollow echoes in the halls of the mind’s habitation

And within any such void can troubled spirits come to dwell — ones against which even Insecurity claimed to provide protection:

Without self-condescension, will pride and ego come to reside amidst these halls?

Will complacency and sloth come to settle in the space left by the compelling force of never being quite enough?

Will others come to hate the self that is no longer quite so self-conscious or self-refuting?

A still mind and an empty house are tranquil things, but there is eeriness about them

Indeed, the solitary places of the mind must become home to something more — the subtle speech of virtue and the call for something higher than the surrounding four walls

New guests must come to inhabit the mind

From the dying embers of self-condescension must rise the gentle warmth of humility

And the animating soul of intrinsic diligence must gradually come to vanquish the possessing forces of complacency, alongside the demanding disparagements of perfectionism

Only a house tended, mended, and brought to care renders forth the fruits of true contentment, quiet joyfulness, and the conviviality of home

But even amidst the battles of the mind or the solemn fields left thereafter, one must always take refuge beyond oneself — in the light that never fades, transcending earthly plights and yet nourishing those of us who are engulfed within them