How would it be if we opened our eyes one day knowing we are all creators? Imagine we would sense our palms and soles hot with the mightiest of fires that we would let out feeling how we create everything.
There is creation in the bowl of milk and cereals when we touch and hold it gently in our hands, whether we add another spoon of sugar, whether we feel its every taste of life.
There is creation in the hairdos we make in the mirror highly arranging four windy locks of hair.
There is creation in the journey we compose to our destinations, carefully stepping on the sidewalk or alongside turning and changing in our hearts of fire each second when we move with the world.
There is creation in the moment we freely plunge in an armchair, looking up and whistling away all that fire.
Much more than in to do, there is creation in to be.
There is creation in the bowl of milk and cereals when we touch and hold it gently in our hands, whether we add another spoon of sugar, whether we feel its every taste of life.
There is creation in the hairdos we make in the mirror highly arranging four windy locks of hair.
There is creation in the journey we compose to our destinations, carefully stepping on the sidewalk or alongside turning and changing in our hearts of fire each second when we move with the world.
There is creation in the moment we freely plunge in an armchair, looking up and whistling away all that fire.
Much more than in to do, there is creation in to be.
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