Two Theatres, One Fire

Metaphorical Narrative

First, the Old Mind Theatre. A brutal stage lit with glaring spotlights, filled with loud actors who bark commands. Their lines were heavy, foreign, and obvious: Do this, or else. Belong, or be punished.

It was intense. You could feel the chains in the air. Easy to recognize, because it reeked of hostility.

But when that stage burned down, a quieter play opened in its place. The Ego Theatre.

Here the actors are softer, more cunning. They wear masks that look like your own face. They whisper: Your routine sucks. Not more, just differently. I’m not them, I’m you.

No spotlights, no shouting. Just a familiar cadence trying to slip past your guard.

Two theatres. Two styles. Same deception.

Core Insight

The trap is identical: both theatres try to convince you of a cage that isn’t there. The old one used chains and threats. The ego’s stage uses masks and whispers.

But the ending is the same: neither theatre owns reality. They only own costumes, sets, and lies.

Saturday Experiment

1. When an intrusive voice rises, ask: Which stage is this? Loud theatre or soft theatre?
2. Name it: Old Mind or Ego.
3. Burn the stage entirely — don’t wrestle with the actors. Torch the curtains, the set, the script. Walk off free.

Sunday Reflection

Journal in third person:

• Which stage appeared most this week — the loud Old Mind or the cunning Ego Theatre?
• How quickly did he spot the production for what it was?
• When he burned the stage, what did freedom feel like in his body?
• How can he remind himself that real life doesn’t need a theatre at all?