The King and the Dog
When ego brings its entire drama ensemble, only the ruthlessly simple King of the Two Slots and the loyal Good Dog remain standing.
Friday, August 22, 2025
Metaphorical Narrative
In the crowded theatre of your mind, countless actors plot, scheme, and wail: the Prophet, the Victim, the Performer, the Judge—they all clamor for center stage, demanding your energy.
But then the King of the Two Slots appears. Small but fierce. His crown burns like a fire-stove. His decree is simple: only two things may enter the kingdom at a time; the rest will burn. Borrowed voices, phantom blocks, siege fantasies—they flare up and vanish in the inferno.
At his side is the Good Dog—playful yet unwavering. Whenever the ego’s antics return, Good Dog pounces, yanks the toy (ego’s drama) away, and chews it down. No war, just joyful neutralization.
The actors try their tricks. But the King’s gate stays firm. The Dog keeps guard. Ego’s theatre collapses, unmet, unfed. The room returns to stillness—space clear, choice simple.
Core Insight
The King of the Two Slots is ruthless precision. He won’t allow detours or multi-actor distractions. Only what truly matters to you gets entry. The Good Dog is playful loyalty—any ego resurgence is greeted with chew-toy annihilation. The combination means ego’s drama has nowhere to stand.
Saturday Experiment
- Spot the Actor → When ego brings drama, name it (Prophet, Victim, etc.).
- Summon the King → Invoke: “King, only two slots. This will burn.” Visualize the flames consuming the drama.
- Release the Dog → Imagine the Good Dog grabbing what’s left and scattering it to dust.
- Return to Your Two Slots → Live only with do and rest. Nothing else passes the gate.
Sunday Reflection
In third person, imprint both scenes side by side:
- A chaotic mind-stage bursting with ego actors, each shouting, insisting, demanding.
- The same space cleared, with only two glowing slots—occupied by your choice and your quiet. A loyal dog at the gate. The King standing watch, crown ablaze.
How does peace feel when the theatre is closed, sovereignty reclaimed, and drama burned to ash?