He felt your eyes reading these words on this page, trying to fathom out his story. He knew deep down that only he could live his story, not you. Your eyes looking into his dream have their own story. Your story that only you can truly experience because it’s seen with your eyes and told with your voice.

Where are we. it’s easy to see. As quick as a blink, we are where we think

How do you know? How do you know you’re a real boy? You might be a story in a book,” Ahimsa challenged. “That’s it! You’re a Jack-in-the-Book and only pop out when the pages are opened,” he scoffed.

Well, my book is real,” affirmed Ahimsa as he hugged his book of Christmas carols like a sacred bible. “So, if Santa is written in there, which he IS, then he’s real too! Santa exists just like ink on a page exists, so there!”“Well, I’ve never seen him,” argued Jack.“And I’ve never seen a thought, but I can think!” Ahimsa shot back.

There’s a cosmic blueprint that lives in all things. That’s how we can find anything we want to, even if it tries to hide from us. We all have a map within us to wherever we want to go. This universal map guides the birds so they know how to fly south. It guides the flowers so they face towards the sun. The rivers of life follow the map so they can become one with the ocean.

He thought of the fish they had caught. “Can a fish ask themselves if they are real or not?” he pondered. Were they real because he had eaten one? He wondered what had become of the fish he had eaten. Was the fish now a part of him or was he what he ate? Was he a part of a fish? It was all so perplexing. Just like a mysterious dream in a children’s book.