"Please know that I am digging deep to understand the darkness within me that led me to make the choice to steal your words. I have much to learn from this and am spending lots of time in reflection to glean the lessons from this experience."
Her contrition moved me. I responded, "We all have darkness within us; it's just a question of whether and how we express it. I know I've mishandled situations in my life. You didn't commit murder, so please don't be too hard on yourself. Since we're all rays of the One, on a meta-level you did write it."
Whose life is it anyway?
Our exchange expanded my consciousness.
How many of us plagiarize our lives, either by emulating someone we admire to the extent that we eclipse our individuality, or by physically altering our bodies to reflect what's trending? Plastic surgery is plagiarism if we remake our physical vessels in another's likeness, or to fit a cultural ideal. I'm sure you can conjure numerous examples.
As I wrote in You're Not Racist. It's Your Brain, "We're all equal backstage, when the make-up and the costumes and the constructs come off. Our similarity is the great leveler, because it humbles our unique, snowflake selves into awareness of a greater whole."
And challenges us to widen our perception of who and what we are.
Synchronistically, I just read And Again, a novel in which four terminally ill patients are given a second chance at life in genetically replicated bodies. But while their minds transfer intact, a deeper essence of who they'd been is missing, because these perfect new bodies have no physical memory. The story asks, Will these people make the same choices, given a do-over?
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