#we each give each other pieces of a puzzle of mutual understanding. we are limited and ever growing

[primordialruin]

Big misconception about boundaries: they are for yourself, not other people. You can tell someone that something makes you uncomfortable and hopefully they'll care enough not to do it, but you should never rely on that hope. You set a boundary for yourself. If they do something after you have stated your feelings, then respect your own boundary and disengage.

[makingspiritualityreal]

A few personal Conclusions I've made concerning houses 2, 3, 8 and 12 in Astrology, and their Mutual Aspect.

Today, I truly understood why the 2nd house is 3rd from the 12th. In the 12th house, we are connected to everything and everyone. We experience constant bliss through swimming in a cosmic ocean of infinity. We experience universal, unconditional kindness. The 2nd house has a completely different nature to that. The 2nd house is in its essence about separating yourself from everything and everyone else and creating limits on what is exclusively yours. So going from the 12th house to the 2nd house requires courage (3rd house) because it means embracing being separated from the collective flow. You have to do things by yourself, for yourself and detach yourself from the consciousness of Universal interconnectedness in order to focus on you as an individual puzzle piece.

That can feel scary and lonely, because in the 12th house you're always surrounded by energy from all sides and the energies are very dispersed. The 2nd house is very focused and grounded, and has no time to even perceive that level of a mass scale event of consciousness and connection because it is busy dealing with what it has tangibly in front of it. So it feels like a downgrade of sorts...where in the 12th house you felt like you had everything and didn't need to do anything to feel like you have everything at your disposal, but in the 2nd house you have to fragment yourself enough to hyperfixate on a particular element. It makes you feel like an infant torn from its mother's womb...a sudden disconnect, a call to grounded action that wakes you up from pleasant slumber.

I believe there is a reason I was born with this alignment though, and there is a reason why cosmically these houses have gains from each other, and why the courage this house-to-house relationship requires is worth it. The infinity of the 12th house is made of a billion puzzle pieces. The 12th house is only as perfect as much as you put in effort in all the houses preceding it. If you don't wake up long enough to make sure your individual worth is taken care of...the quality of your rest will be inferior to what it could be. That's why we invented the term restLESS, because we feel like there is something we should have done or we should be doing that we're not doing. You can't rest properly, if you haven't made enough effort to put worth in yourself... including your own well being.

The 12th house is respectively 11th from the 2nd house. The 2nd house aspires to be where the 12th house is. It's the 2nd houses wish fulfillment to see the seeds it planet grow into the abundance of the 12th house. But if you don't do the work to tend to these 2nd house seeds and never tear yourself away from the 12th house bliss, you never get the opportunity to truly appreciate how far you've come, and you don't get to enjoy to see your dream materialised.

Even though I conceptually understand that, I have to admit I'm terrified. This is the first time in my life that I've been so alone. I live alone, meet one friend for a few hours a day, try to do everything for myself as much as I can with what I have...and I habitually panic and feel lonely, missing that connection I would love to have with others, that feels so natural to me. But I've paid an insanely high price for not valuing myself enough for who I am, and I've given away too much in the past to people who didn't value or respect the boundless compassion I offered at all. That is a painful wake-up call, taking me away from my Jupiter happiness. I feel hopeless and in despair about it, that all I wanted was to give something good that would benefit everyone, and I got so severely punished for it. But that's what courage is, going into unknown territory, without any certainty of what you will find there. And I firmly believe, that whatever I find forward is better than what I leave behind. It is hardly a valuable contribution to constantly give where you're not appreciated. And whatever I make of myself, I will eventually use to give something even better to the world, this time in a way that doesn't let anything go to waste.

[violet-witch-6]

Extra scene for “The Third Robin” that got cut for redundancy and pacing, can be read standalone

When one spends an extended amount of time with Batman, one learns to be comfortable with long silences.

Tim knows through second hand anecdotes and one very memorable security tape that Babs sent him in his ‘welcome to the Batfamily’ gift-basket (read: survival kit) that Dick filled the silences with a non-stop stream of chatter, sometimes holding entire conversations without B ever saying a word.

Jason preferred to fill the silences with music. Loud rock n’ roll beats usually, but every once in a while he’d throw in something unexpected. British punk, Taylor Swift, Musicals… Jason was nothing if not spontaneous.

Tim doesn’t use either of these tactics. Frankly, he prefers the silence. It helps him think just as much as it helps Bruce. And anyway, words are extraneous. Who needs small talk when their time would be better utilized thinking over the case separately so that their thought process’ can remain uncontaminated until they pool ideas later in the cave?

Besides, Tim has found that it breeds a specific kind of closeness to just be able to sit in silence with someone without it being awkward. An understanding and vulnerability that comes from immersing yourself in your thoughts in the presence of another person.

And anyway, words have always been Tim’s weapons. He shouldn’t need those with someone he’s close to. Or, that’s the idea anyway.

Tonight is different. Tonight they are not silent because of their mutual understanding and respect for one another’s thoughts, but because Tim is busy willing the Batmobile to drive faster so he can get away from Bruce and into someplace more private.

Once he gets there, he’s not sure what he’ll do. Shut down probably. It’s how he usually handles his emotions.

They pull into the cave and Tim all but jumps from the car, making quick strides to get to his station at the computer so he can type up his report before Bruce gets any stupid ideas like talking about it. Not that Tim expects the old man to ever acknowledge what happened.

He’s not even sure what Bruce would say about it that wouldn’t sound hollow and cheap.

So he speeds through his report in record time and nearly falls on his face because he’s moving too fast in the shower. When he’s finally in civies again and ready to go, he pauses behind the computer chair where Bruce is still hunched over his own report, moving almost comically slowly in contrast to Tim’s breakneck speed.

Tim clears his throat. “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow night Bruce.”

He turns on his heel to leave, but at the last second Bruce’s voice stops him. “Wait.”

He considers leaving anyway, but he’s not quite willing to disobey Bruce over something so simple. He doesn’t like doing things in half measures, and his teenage rebellion, if and when it comes, will be no exception. “Yes?”

Bruce hesitates, possibly considering retreat, but in the end, he barrels forward with all his usual social ineptitude. “About what happened—”

“Slip of the tongue.” Tim cuts him off smoothly, stopping what would have been an awkward and emotionally stunted moment.

What he wants to do is scream because Bruce called him Jason. What he wants to do is ask if he’s still not good enough even after he’s proven himself time and again through his detective work. What he wants to do is rage at Bruce for saying out loud what Tim already knew was true.

He’s a placeholder. A prescription balm that Bruce is using to soothe the pain of losing Jason. He’s not Robin. Not in the ways that count, because he’s not Bruce’s son. His parents are still alive and well, wherever the hell they are.

But he can’t yell or get angry because this is what he signed up for. He went in knowing he’d be the third in a line of many, little more than an inconsequential blip in the history of Gotham’s vigilantes, but he’d screwed up and gotten himself attached. Between the success he’s had as a detective and Bruce’s slowly but steadily warming nature, Tim had just started to believe maybe they were more than partners forced on each other.

You’d think he’d be used to disappointments by now, but they never seem to stop hurting.

Bruce twists around in his chair to finally look at Tim, his brows drawn together in a tight frown. “Tim—“

“It’s not your fault.” Tim smiles at him to show he means it, but it doesn’t come out right. He’s gotten so used to his smiles being at least an approximation of real that the perfect display of teeth Janet drilled into his head feels disjointed and wrong. “We’re both tired. It’s probably best if I just go home to get some rest and we forget about the whole thing. Goodnight, Bruce.”

He’s gone before Bruce can reply.

Alfred, however, has faster reflexes. “Before you go Master Timothy, I made a lovely rhubarb pie. I insist you take some home with you.” Tim hesitates. He made it out of the cave and still wants to complete his desperate flee from the manor, but Alfred hasn’t done anything wrong, and Tim just doesn’t have it in him to refuse the old butler.

He’ll make it quick. “Okay, sure.” He allows Alfred to silently lead him to the kitchen, trying not to look like the skittish puppy he is.

Alfred pulls out an already packaged pie for Tim to take, but when Tim grabs it, he doesn’t let go. “There is something I wished to discuss with you.”

He should have known it was a trap. A sweet, delicious trap. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asks tiredly, suddenly missing his bed very dearly.

“I fear Master Bruce has behaved rather thoughtlessly this evening and I want to ensure you are alright.”

It takes a moment for the words to register. Alfred is… checking on him. Strange. Tim swallows past the marble in his throat to reply, “I really am fine. I know he doesn’t… he’s in pain. I can take it.” This time his smile is a little more convincing, if a little wetter.

Alfred looks at him sadly. “If you can take it is not the issue. The issue is that you should not have to.”

It shouldn’t be a miraculous statement, and there is no reason Alfred’s sympathetic words should rock Tim’s whole world view, but of all the things that have happened in Tim’s life, the good and the bad, whether or not he deserves them has never even crossed his mind.

He’s never viewed himself as a victim, or even a child. His suffering just hasn’t been as important as everyone else’s. He’s never thought that was a strange viewpoint until this moment.

For once, Tim’s expression gives away everything that’s happening in his head, and Alfred reads it like a book. “You don’t deserve to live in his shadow. You deserve to be seen as your own person.”

“Am I my own person?” he blurts, like a toddler grasping for any reassurance no matter how baseless. He hates sounding like that, but the dam has been broken and Tim couldn’t stop now if he tried. “I don’t feel like I am. I feel like a jigsaw puzzle held together by sheer force of will and luck that’s going to run out someday. My pieces aren’t mine. I’m not me. I’m… I’m a byproduct of all their sins. Mother’s, father’s, Bruce’s, even Dick and Jason’s. Alfred, I can’t tell what’s me and what’s a reflection. I’m—” He can’t breathe. His lungs ache like he hasn’t had air in several minutes. The panic in his voice has been building and now it’s breaking over him like a tidal wave that’s threatening to wash him away.

Alfred’s eyes are watery with sympathetic pain and the pie lays forgotten on the counter. He reaches out like he might touch Tim or hug him, but Tim flinches violently away.

“I’m s-sorry.” He stutters, eyes wide and horrified at his own involuntary response.

Alfred just shakes his head. “It is I who must apologize. I am sorry for this pain.”

Despite the shakiness he feels in his very core, Tim snorts. “It’s not your fault.”

“Perhaps not, but someone must apologize for what has been done to you.”

Tim freezes. The watery edge of his panic is turning sharp and dangerous. “No, it’s my fault. I’m the one who did this.”

For a moment, Alfred just looks at him. He doesn’t rush to tell Tim he’s wrong—even if his expression makes his feelings clear enough—he just looks at him. “You are stronger than anyone gives you credit for, Master Timothy, but strength has limits. I beg of you not to test them.”

Tim can only nod, glassy eyes reflecting the warm kitchen lights. He desperately needs out and away from this conversation, but at the same time he wants nothing more than to stay, and let the rest of what he’s been feeling break free. He can’t do that though because he’s scared if he does, he’ll never be able to put it all away again.

At length, he croaks, “Thank you,” as sincerely as he can with a voice that sounds weaker and rougher than he’s comfortable with. The words can’t possibly express his gratitude for Alfred in this moment, but he doesn’t know how else to show it.

To Tim’s eternal relief, Alfred doesn’t comment. He only hands Tim the pie, and lets him go.

[awaywiththefairi3s]

Call You Up

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: I love me an angsty story about ex-boyfriend Tom phoning you in the middle of the night

Word count: 2k

A/N: This is inspired by the song Call You Up by Viola Beach - if you haven’t heard it already, give it a listen 🌻

I’m super new to Tumblr and this is the first piece of writing I’ve posted so please leave feedback, like, reblog etc!! 💛

Shoutout to @valar--m0rghulis for being so lovely and encouraging me to post this xx

-

And that you seem to be the air that I breathe and the last thing I think of as I fall asleep

And I’ll call you up in the middle of the night, in hopes that you wanna hear from me I just wanna know if you’re feeling alright

Your room was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on your bedside table. It was exactly quarter past three in the morning. You lay in your pyjamas, duvet wrapped tightly around your body, staring up at the plain white ceiling of your apartment. It was still dark outside, the slight gap in your curtains revealing the dim glow of the streetlights which littered the pavement outside. This was the fourth night in a row that you hadn’t been able to sleep. No matter how tired you were during the day, your brain just couldn’t seem to switch off. Today hadn’t been any different. You’d arrived home from work, taken your lazy Labrador for a walk, fed her (and yourself), before finishing up any housework that needed doing and jumping in the shower. Flopping into your slightly broken - but still comfortable - bed, you RSVP’d yes to an invite asking you to meet some friends for drinks next weekend, and absentmindedly scrolled through your Instagram feed. It was the same mundane routine, Monday to Friday, every week. Thank god it’s Saturday tomorrow. You thought to yourself, relishing in the idea of not having to answer to another 6am wake-up call. You moved your arms from your side, up behind your head, your elbows bent horizontally along the pillows. You let out a gentle sigh and closed your eyes. “Just go to sleep,” you muttered under your breath.

You were thrown awake from your sleep by the sound of your phone vibrating against the hollow wood of your bedside table. You reached for your phone as you turned from your back onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow to fully extend your other arm and drag your phone across the table. Still confused in your post-sleep haze, you blinked as you glanced at the caller ID on the screen.

Tom

You took a deep breath as you sat up and rested your back against the headboard. “Again,” you whispered to yourself as you prepared to answer the call.

It had been just under a month since you and he had ended things. It was an amicable break-up. A mutual understanding, one you had both agreed on. A final goodbye which was nothing but polite, filled with countless “thank you’s” and tear-filled, “I’m sorry’s.” Except it hadn’t been a final goodbye. Final would have meant ‘done’ and as you prepared to answer his early morning phone call for the fourth time this week, the reality dawned upon you that your feelings of love and admiration towards him were anything but done.

“Hi,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi, darlin’.”

He had always called you ‘darlin’.’ It had been his pet name for you since the very start, even when you were nothing more than friends. It started off as a joke, you mocking his London accent each time he greeted you with a “hi darlin’” and a hug. But once he realised how much you secretly loved him calling you that, how, when he said it, the corners of your mouth would turn up into a shy smile, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink, it just stuck.

“What’s up?” 

You glanced at the clock beside you, 5:25am. Your tone was casual - as if you were having a catch up with a friend. Not talking on the phone to an ex-boyfriend who had rung you from halfway across the world at half past five in the morning.

“Not much. Just ringing to see how you are.”

He sounded unusually chirpy, for what you believed to be the early hours of the morning where he was currently staying.

“What time is it there?” You asked, covering your hand with your mouth as you tried to stifle a yawn.

“Where?” He paused, too deep in thought to remember where he was. 

“Oh, in New York? It’s half 12, I just got back to the hotel.”

“Busy day?” 

You mentally cursed yourself for asking. Deliberately choosing to ignore the fact that this conversation shouldn’t be happening. That this boy you were talking to was undoubtedly off limits. 

“Yeah, pretty busy. We wrapped today so I’m flying back to London tomorrow. I’ll be back in New York in a week though for re-shoots.”

You toyed with the hem of your pyjama top as he spoke. His voice soft and bright through the speakers. His tone sounding both familiar and comforting. For a few seconds, everything felt normal.

“Went for dinner with Harrison. It was nice.”

“Sounds lush. Where did you go for dinner?” You asked, continuing to make polite conversation.

“Just to a steak restaurant in Times Square. Y’know, this girl stopped Harrison and asked him for a photo.”

“Did she ask you for one?” You questioned, slightly confused.

“No.” 

He let out a breathy chuckle. 

“I had to take it.”

“Well, I always told you he was much better looking than you,” you poked fun at him, smiling into the phone which was resting against your ear.

“Yeah,” he chuckled again, louder this time, letting it sink down to the back of his throat and rise up again.

“What about you? How was work?”

“Same old.”

The words rolled off your tongue before you’d even had time to think about what you were saying. Same old. A phrase you had both become accustomed to during numerous, rushed FaceTime calls while you were both working at opposite ends of the globe. It was usually used in answer to the question, ‘what are you up to,’ which was often followed by the awkward response of ‘nothing as exciting as what you’re doing’ or a ‘sorry love, I’ll have to call you back.’ The phrase reignited harsh memories of the little time you two had spent together towards the end of your relationship. You both treasured the few occasions you were able to be with each other in person; Tom clinging to your side as you boarded the private jet during press tours, you not-so-patiently waiting in his trailer while he finished up on set for the day. Even on the rare occasions when he was back home in London, you worked five days a week, often having to work overtime to please your ever-observant boss. Eventually, it became too much for the both of you - neither of you could afford to make that commitment to one another without letting the other person down. It was physically and mentally exhausting, not to mention unfair. It took you a while to finally admit it to yourself but you both knew that the relationship was no longer working. Despite the civil nature of the break-up, it hadn’t made it any easier. You missed him and he missed you, a fact you were painfully reminded of every morning when you woke up - starfished across the bed - instead of asleep on your side, your back resting against his broad chest.

Tom cleared his throat awkwardly, taking in a breath and exhaling with a deep sigh. You tried to move the conversation on quickly.

“I um… I spoke to that woman from work. The really tall one.”

Tom paused for a second, trying to remember.

“Oh yeah, the one we met at the Christmas party?” He asked, a tone of uncertainty evident in his voice.

“Yeah, that’s her. Anyway, she was the one who had my denim jacket. We must have taken each others by accident. It’s been resolved now.” 

You sat up further, straightening your back and leaning your head against the top edge of the headboard.

“Good. I’m glad.” 

He paused.

“I told you it would be fine.”

“Yeah,” you replied. You smiled, replaying the scenario in your head.

“Oh shit,” you pulled your hand out of the outside jacket pocket. 

“This isn’t my jacket.”

“Huh?” Tom unlinked his arm from yours and turned to face you. Placing your clutch bag between his legs, he leaned back against the lamppost adjacent to the taxi rank where you both stood, digging your heels into the ground to try and stop yourselves from slipping on the icy pavement beneath you.

“This isn’t my jacket, I’ve picked up the wrong one.”

He glanced at the black denim jacket draped over your shoulders. 

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Well the jacket I wore to the party was blue, not black, soo… yeah pretty sure.” 

You looked up at him, shrugging your shoulders.

“You dickhead,” he laughed, shaking his head playfully. “Well we can’t go back and get it now, everyone will have left.”

“Shit shit shit.” You bit your lip as you thought about what Tom had just said.

Tom looked at you, brows furrowing as he tried to gauge your reaction.

“What’s the problem? I thought you said you kept your phone and everything in your clutch?” He waved the small gold bag in the air.

“I di-I have,” you paused. “But now I’m wearing someone else’s jacket.” 

You checked the pockets for any belongings, pulling out nothing except an empty packet of gum. “What if they think I’ve stolen it?”

“Well, the pockets are empty?” Tom looked at you puzzled.

“No, I mean the jacket. What if they think I’ve stolen the jacket?” The pace of your voice became faster as you started to panic.

“Why would you steal a jacket with nothing in it?” 

He laughed again, before extending his arm and gently grabbing your hand. You slowly inched closer to him. He intertwined your fingers with his.

“Just message whoever was at the party tonight and explain what happened. Then you can return the jacket to its rightful owner when you go back in a couple of weeks.” 

He gave you a reassuring smile, “It’ll be fine.” 

Taking a deep breath, you began to compose yourself.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry, I was just being silly.” You huffed in mock defeat.

“You worry too much,” he smiled as he unlinked your fingers. His hand slowly moving up to your face to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, he reached down to give you a light kiss on the lips. As he pulled away, he let out a soft chuckle.

“What?” You whined, “What are you laughing at?”

“How did you fail to notice your jacket was a different colour?”

Snapping back to reality, you fell back into the conversation.

“So what did you do after dinner?” You asked, desperately trying to think of things to say.

“I miss you.”

You fell silent. Your heart sank in your chest as the phrase echoed through the speakers and hovered in the still air surrounding you. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard this from Tom since you’d broken up, but the words still stung.

“Darlin’, did you hear what I said?”

You swallowed, almost frightened to reply.

“I said... I-I miss you.”

You inhaled sharply. You closed your eyes as the phrase was replayed, once more, throughout your entire body. You felt the words sink down through your chest, your heart suddenly heavy. They stung just as bad as they had previously, the words just another painful reminder of the relationship you’d fought so hard for but ultimately lost. He’d been more than just a boyfriend, he was your best friend, your biggest supporter.

Swallowing hard, you opened your eyes again. It took every inch of you, every last bit of energy you had to stop yourself from repeating those exact words back to him.

“I know.”

[deborahbutler]

Why Is Deconstruction Important?

Deconstruction and Co-creation Are A Couple Deconstruction and co-creation are essential to our understanding of life and the good and bad things that happen to us. Even though some things are out of our control, many scenarios depend on our interaction with other people and the world around us. Understanding how this process happens and how we can shape it leads to us achieving our goals in life.  Why Is Co-creation So Important? Every interaction you have is a co-creation. As a result, your thoughts, feelings, and actions are all co-creations. But what does that mean? What is co-creation? A co-creation is when two or more people come together for a common goal, whether to chat about their day or collaborate on an art project. Co-creation can be mutually beneficial, selfish, or a mix of the two. It's about coming together to solve a problem to make things better for everyone involved. Considering this definition and understanding of co-creation, it then becomes clear why it's so important. Co-creation is the only way we can solve problems. Problems can't be solved by yourself as there is always someone else involved. To deny co-creation and deny yourself the other person's perspective in any given problem is to shut out a vast potential source of information and experience This information could be beneficial to everyone involved. If you refuse to co-create, it is likely because you don't feel like your problems are significant enough for anyone else to be bothered with them. But remember, problems aren't just yours; they affect those around you too, family, friends, co-workers, even strangers on the street. Nature embeds us into our reality, and everything and everybody is co-creating that reality with you. They are not just living their lives; they live a life that is emotionally and mentally affected by your actions too. Am I Alone? You are not alone in your problems. The power of co-creation gives you access to the other person's perspective to make a better decision. Your problems become someone else's hopes, fears, and desires too. Let go of the belief that people don't care and start creating with them. Let them know that you care about something important enough to want to hear their perspective on it. You will be surprised at how much they will help you out as soon as you let them know they can help you. And maybe, just maybe, they have been waiting for you to ask. Get actively involved in developing your co-creations and co-creating with others. And remember to be open to other's perspectives, it is a vast world out there, and no one has all the answers. Each perspective is a piece of the puzzle that helps us put together how we want our reality to look. Let's create a better reality for everyone through understanding our co-creation! Why Is My Interpretation Wrong? Our experience of life is how we interpret the things around us, including our online experience. Everything we experience is either processed rationally or emotionally. The way we interpret things influences the decisions we make and the goals we set. To live a life living up to our full potential, we must become better creators of our reality. How you rationalize and explain things is what leads to your interpretations. You base your decisions on your interpretations of why something bad happened or how something good happened. We have very firmly embedded interpretations in our everyday lives. As much as they have a significant effect on how we act and react, most people don't know how they came about them in the first place. They may not even know why they exist at all. People accept their interpretations as truth and live their lives rationalizing everything. Being stuck in the rationalization phase of thinking is very limiting. It doesn't explain why things are. It simply explains why they happen after they happen. This lack of understanding can make it hard to learn from our mistakes or understand our feelings. Therefore, we cannot seek out how we can change or improve them to create a better reality for ourselves. If you experience life emotionally without questioning your interpretations, you are just experiencing life without reason. Living a life without reasoning behind your actions or decisions is living a random existence. As a result, you lack future power because you do not understand your actions' possible consequences. Life without reason, especially regarding our imagined interpretations, is a life we are not worthy of because we fail to learn and keep repeating the same broken behaviours. Understanding How Deconstruction and Co-creation Work Together Understanding our interpretations and being aware of irrationality is the first step towards improving them and living a more satisfying life. We can start changing them by understanding how to deconstruct our rationalizations and construct a new reality with a different interpretation. When we take the guesswork out of the situation by seeking clarity from the other people involved, we gain an adequate idea. Until then, our ideas are inadequate as our imagination fills in the blanks. Our imagination cannot know what the other person is thinking without asking, and even then, they may lie. It is better to sit with an adequate idea and not complete the puzzle with the wrong pieces, distorting the picture. Changing your interpretations is possible through meditation and self-reflection. For meditation, sit back for ten minutes a day and observe your thoughts. It only takes ten minutes to notice when you become caught up in your emotional patterns or others' opinions that aren't even fully formed yet. This exercise is an excellent start to understanding. So, to understand more deeply and start with your practice, read this article on The Heart of Practice. My Post on The Heart Of Practice First, we need to deconstruct our prejudices and learned conditioning that is attached to our interpretations. The way to do this is through observation. Pay attention to everything that goes on around you without attaching a meaning to it or judging it in any way. Why Are Deconstruction and Co-creation So Important? Deconstructing your interpretation doesn't necessarily involve trying to change it, just learning more about the thought that you had and why you think the way you do. Take pride in your ability to think but always question if what you're thinking about something is worth bringing up at all. If the thought isn't significant enough, then don't give it any power or attention by interpreting it as authentic or rational in any way. Co-creation is the first step to changing your reality, and if you can't create a different interpretation of things, you will never be able to create a new reality. To co-create, you need to understand that the world around us is not static. Things are constantly changing, whether we notice it or not. And it is your interpretations of these changes that will either lead to a new creation or keep you in old and possibly unhealthy patterns. If you have an explanation for why something is the way it is, chances are it wasn't always the way it was. It changed at some point and got there based on a reason and an interpretation. So, anything could change again for the same reason and with the correct interpretations. At some point you start to deconstruct your interpretations.  How To Do Deconstruction Deconstruct your own interpretations of what you see by observing everything without judging or giving it a meaning. Learn to trust that learning doesn't require judgments or labeling. Deconstruct and reconstruct new interpretations by coming up with new explanations for things. Follow your logic and ask yourself why specific patterns exist in the first place. Going back to the 'road not travelled' example, why is there a road not travelled? Or how is that rock on the ground shaped like that? Learn to pay attention to patterns and look at things differently. To learn more about this practice's background, look at Martin Butler's blog and YouTube channel. MartinButler.EU Blog Martin Butler on YouTube Read the full article