Keep the Space, Exile the Scripts

Metaphorical Narrative

Imagine your life as a clean square of ground. A place where sunlight falls, and the soil is ready for growth. Into this square wander shabby actors with crumpled scripts. They yell, they beg for attention, they read out lines of humiliation or panic as if the play were still running. Their stage is gone, but they try to sneak back in.

The truth is, the square belongs to you. It is your sovereign space. The actors have no tickets, no rights, no claim. Each time they appear, you hold up a hand and point to the edge: exile. They shuffle out, their lines collapsing into nonsense. Your space stays clean.

Core Insight

Ego scripts thrive when they hijack your body alarm and trick you into believing the story is real. But when you see them clearly, their weight collapses — the panic looks absurd, the drama turns comical. That’s the signal: exaggeration is over. The scene doesn’t deserve a second showing.

Growth means you don’t let the ego keep renting space. You exile the script, not yourself. Your task is to keep the square sovereign — to notice the play, laugh at its absurdity, and send the actors off stage. Each exile keeps the ground fertile for real presence.

Saturday Experiment

1. Next time a script pops up, name it like a bad play (“The Humiliation Director,” “The Panic Chorus”).
2. Smile or laugh once at its absurdity.
3. Say aloud: “I keep the space. The script is exiled.”
4. Return to whatever you were doing.

Sunday Reflection

Write in third person:

• Where did the script try to enter today?
• How did the exile feel in the body?
• What did “keeping the space” make possible for them that wasn’t possible before?