Infinite Brushstrokes (5 min 47 sec)

The Artist - That's you.

Your paintbrush is unique to you, endowed with unlimited magical power. 

Your paintbrush only works when it's in your hands, it loses its magical powers when it's not. 

No one can steal your paintbrush, even if they did it would lose all if its magical power. 

The Stroke - That's what your brush is doing.

Stroke - represents your thoughts, words, and actions. 

It reflects how you treat yourself and others. 

Strokes serve as opportunities for correction, not retaliation or retribution.

Every brushstroke has meaning and purpose.

Have confidence in your strokes.

Avoid getting too attached to any particular stroke of your paintbrush.

Create another stroke.

You cannot ruin the canvas.

Every stroke holds significance, even if its meaning eludes you.

Every stroke matters, although no one is keeping score.

Your Canvas is blank, allowing you to observe what you are creating. 

The Artist, referring to you, can no longer be a victim. 

The Artist can never be harmed or injured by a person or event. 

The Artist cannot suffer or experience unfair treatment. 

The Artist is free from any physical, emotional, financial, or psychological harm. 

Each day grants you a brand new canvas to paint on. 

No past or future canvas exists. 

Your canvas of yesterday is concluded. 

Your past canvas distorts the current canvas before you. 

You don't need your old canvases; they are no longer relevant. 

There is no Future Canvas, but the Now Canvas functions flawlessly. 

The Artist (that is You) and your canvas are inseparable. 

Your artistic expression is inseparable from your canvas; it is shaped by your interpretation. 

What you see on your canvas is "you on a plate," only you fail to recognize your work.

This is why you might find yourself judging other people's canvas, as a way to avoid confronting the "mess" you perceive on your own.

So not only are you drawing from your concluded past, but you are also interfering with other people's canvas while neglecting your own.

The writer cannot use their brush to paint on your canvas; they can only paint on their own. 

The writer's brush loses all magical powers when attempting to paint on any other canvas but their own. 

The writer sees your canvas, and you see theirs, but only through limited perspectives. 

Any unloving and judgmental thoughts the writer has about you, they keep for themselves. 

This is a fact. 

Ideals do not depart from their source, both the good and the bad ones. 

Be open-minded and let it teach you.

Maybe it is something, maybe it is nothing, or maybe it is everything. 

You don't know yet, and perhaps you never will. 

Maybe you already know. 

You must embrace your artistry in solitude, standing completely alone.

Your Canvas, like AI, remains impartial, devoid of feelings or opinions. 

It objectively reflects your paintings. It remains indifferent to your stories, whether happy or sad. 

Your gender and race hold no advantage within its realm. 

It stands as the only fair playing field in the world, applicable to all religions, cultures, beliefs, ideologies, and -isms. 

The past and future dissolve into insignificance. 

Your Canvas embodies Life itself. It serves as a living document, transcending the boundaries of death. 

Let the inert canvases interact amongst themselves. 

If you dislike what you see on your canvas, DO NOT attempt to change it. 

DO NOT flee from it. 

Instead, seek assistance. 

Ask for an alternative perspective. 

Question why it does not please you. 

By staying with it, you won't have to make efforts to let it go; it will naturally dissipate. 

If you run, it will give chase, and you will tire before it does. 

The world has bestowed upon you some misguided counsel. 

Do not worry; each day grants you a fresh blank canvas. 

Isn't Love gracious? 

The writer anticipates that some readers may overlook the significance of the previous statement— 

Do not worry; each day grants you a fresh blank canvas. 

Do not worry; each day grants you a fresh blank canvas. 

Do not worry; each day grants you a fresh blank canvas.

We persist in painting until we come to the realization that every brushstroke is of our own making, and we find dissatisfaction with what we perceive. 

What hinders us is our futile attempt to create brushstrokes on other people's canvases (an impossible endeavor), and the false belief that the image we witness on our own canvas has been crafted by someone else. 

However, the Truth reveals that we ourselves are the culprits behind it all.

And yet, there is no need to fret, for we are granted an infinite number of brushstrokes to paint something anew.