By Benjamin Raven Pressley

“Wake up little one.” I heard the voice say. It was ever so gentle like a loving mother or father would awaken their child.

“Huh, what is it? Who are you?” I responded ever so sleepily.  I was in a deep sleep indeed. It was a sleep like I had been asleep for a thousand years.

“Don’t fret about time. There is no such thing as time except in the minds of those who created such a construct,” The voice responded to my thoughts for I had not spoken aloud. “And don’t fret about thoughts and speech as if they are two different things. This also is a human created construct. Why is it humans rise up every morning and dress in chains as if they were clothing?”

“OK, well where are we going?” I asked.

“Even your questions limit you and bind you. Just come with me and trust me,” The voice insisted.

“But I am but a mist….here today and gone tomorrow, what can I do?” I replied.

“If you only knew,” the voice said smiling, “Come and I will show you.”

So, I arose. I felt the wind blowing through me and around me trying to blow me away and would have easily faded away but for the one who was only a voice but now were hands forming me like a potter would form clay. How could one form a mist? Yet I knew but for the hands that I surely would just fade away.

“You say you are but a mist. I say you are a spirit.”

“Is there a difference? Isn’t a spirit only dust in the wind?”

“You have much to learn, little one. Come.”

    And before I knew it I found myself flying over mountain and valley, fire and water, earth and space. I felt myself rushing through blood vessels flowing in a stream of the very building blocks of life. I did not understand but the less I thought about it and tried to put it into words the better I understood.

    We flew and we flew. It was frightening and so fulfilling at the same time. Then we entered into a storm. There was lightning and thunder like I never dreamed possible for it seemed to rip through the very essence of this world. Fierce winds swirled about and formed a whirlwind that seemed to have a mind of its own as it touched down upon the surface of this world whatever this world was, meting out destruction everywhere it touched. Then I realized I was fading away and was being absorbed into the storm as if it were ripping me apart for I was but a mist.

“Will you allow the storm to absorb you or will you absorb it?” The voice asked. And along with the question it was as if something was placed in me that empowered me beyond my own power. It was not of me and yet somehow it was. Then it was as if I found myself, though a seemingly lesser essence become the more dominant force until the storm swirled about in me instead of outside of me. Instead of the storm blowing me about it was I who had absorbed it and controlled it rather than it controlling me. Then the voice said, “You ARE the storm!” It was true. I was no longer a mist being blown about by every wind that blew but it was I who controlled the wind. I was formless and yet was content to be formless for I realized taking any other form only limited me. “Now, you’re getting it,” said the voice.

    “Now, feel the ground beneath your feet. Feel the heat, the cold and the rain beating upon your skin,” the voice directed. And suddenly I felt aches and pains, worry and fear for I found myself in a physical form. I also found myself surrounded by an army of formidable soldiers armed with sword, shield, sling, bow and arrow. I was then confronted with what appeared to be the army’s greatest warrior and he stood before me taunting me. As he pressed in upon me pushed me back with his shield until I fell backwards upon the ground. The army about me laughed as he further struck at me with bladed halberd in hand. He cut my skin over and over. Wait, skin? How did I go from being formless and untouchable to what I was now? I was afraid and angry all at the same time. Then the voice spoke again, “Even in physical form you are formless and untouchable. You ARE the battle. Will it absorb you or will you absorb it?”

   I then felt a calm upon me and I stood to my feet and every blow only passed through me. The foe before me dealt blow upon blow and it had no effect upon me. I took his halberd in hand and took it from his hand and looked at it and then looked at him and I broke it in two and began to walk. At this the army was upon me attacking me but I walked through them formless yet in a physical form. How could this be? After all one is either a form or not one cannot be both, I reasoned. Then I felt a gash across the back of my leg and felt pain and began to bleed. “You’re thinking about this too hard. You are trying to understand and put into words that which cannot be understood and put into words,” the voice reminded me, “Now, understand that which cannot be understood.”

     ‘Understand that which cannot be understood’ seemed like a contradiction. Then I raised my hands and closed my eyes and let go and it was not long before every soldier, including their great champion was absorbed into me and even the wounds inflicted upon me healed. I understood at that moment for I had become the battle. No weapon formed against me prospered for I was the weapon being formed.

   Then I realized that I was not just a mist that was here today and gone tomorrow. I was not grass that was green today and dry and thrown into a furnace tomorrow. I AM SPIRIT. Then the voice spoke once more, “I AM THAT I AM. You are you and I am me. I am Creator and you are my creation but behold I show you a mystery that we are one if you abide in me. You are the storm, you are the weapon. You are timeless and limitless in power as long as you fly with me. If you look at circumstances around you, if you are troubled by the storm coming against you or the sword that threatens to cut you in half then you become subject to the illusion you have allowed, for it is but an illusion you have chosen. Do not dress yourselves in chains for if you do they are chains of your own making. I am the robe that clothes you, I am the sword in your hand, I am the shield… I am the fortress around you like an armor that cannot be pierced. I AM.”


I have a social media friend on the MeWe platform named Michael Crispin That has gave me permission to use some of the insights he shares. So be blessed and enjoy!

It has been written that an optimist is someone who can fall ten stories and call out to each floor in passing that everything is okay so far. It has also been said that an optimist is someone who refuses to see things as they really are.

It is far better, the pessimist believes, to look for the worst so as to be pleasantly surprised when things are better than expected. Then, if they are as bad as imagined, the disappointment won’t be quite so great.

But this is somewhat like backing into a room so as to avoid seeing the beauty of it, only to find it is an elevator shaft.

There can be no advancement where we expect the worst and believe that going outside the limits of ordinary thinking is only daydreaming. Thinkers, capable of forecasting and predicting answers before the questions arise, are in great demand.

Only the optimist can fill the bill. Only the optimist can dare to believe there are things waiting for discovery and further development.

An optimist questions life the same as a pessimist – the difference is that the optimist knows there is an answer and that the answer can be found. Optimists are aware that the cherries of life have pits, but they are prepared to remove them. Their minds do not dwell on pits but on the sweetness of the cherries.

There will be situations that will make us afraid. Fear is a common-sense emotion that keeps us from walking in front of a moving car or from jumping off the deep end of anything. And there are periods of natural anxiety when we want too much to perform well, and the butterflies begin to flutter.

Then, there is another kind of fear that is unnatural. It has the ability to possess us and rule over our very lives. It is that “what if” fear that builds nests in our minds and hatches dire images that scare the daylights out of us. It can keep the lights off, the doors bolted, and the windows of our souls firmly locked against the most beautiful things in life.

Apologies to all who follow me for not posting anything knew for quite some time either here or any new newsletters. The wife and I have been traveling all over the USA and having a great time but it does make it difficult to work on a webpage. Thanks for bearing with me. In the meantime I suggest you check out my books at Walking Spiritually as well as my inspiring fantasy series at Raven’s Writing Desk.

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