Thought Weilder

The man packed up his car and traveled down the long road ahead of him. He left straight from his late wife's funeral. Depressed, lonely, and aggravated, the man had no idea what to do. Silently, he pleaded for a reprieve from life, something to help him out of this grief. He asked the air, the car door, anything that would answer.

He stared out the window; all color had faded around him, and vibrancy had disappeared. He had lost the love of his life, and nothing around him was in color, just a faint black and white. This man did not realize the full extent of the power of his thoughts. As he walked about his town with a low demeanor and a solemn face, his thoughts began to manifest as soon as he thought them.

He mused, "This town seems entirely devoid of vibrancy; the environment is low-light, and everything appears in shades of gray." A general dimming and haziness enveloped everything, affecting him and everyone else in the vicinity. Now the town was black and white to everyone, not just him. As people began to move, a young child cried out for their mother. Internally, the immediate thoughts that came to this man... CAME TRUE!

The trees were less colorful, the mountains were black, the water was black. Everything felt like it was rotting. People were being mean to each other and shouting loudly. The man seemed to have poisoned the town with his bad attitude. The man tried to find a mirror to see himself. He found a mirror; his face was devoid of any color, and he could see on the sides that his face was cracking and rotting.

The man started to panic; he considered the possibility that he was intoxicated. Or dreaming. There had to be a reasonable explanation. The whole town by now was in a fit of panic; everyone felt that they may be having a collective hallucination. The man started to run. He did not know where he was headed, but he knew he needed to move, to get out of that place. He had no idea that mere thought could send him and his own city spiraling out of control. Everything was black and white and faded, so walking down the road was hard; he never knew what was coming next, so he just walked on with faith that could move mountains, because right now his faith was all he had left. Not his mom or his wife. Just himself and this lonely road.

Miles down the road, he felt tired, so the man lay on a rock under a tree until he could breathe properly again. He remembered an old friend who might be able to help with this predicament: Old Man Taylor. A magician on the other side of the village where he lived, which was a long way to walk. So he thought he'd better get started now. He reached into his bag for his phone to find the map app, but the phone was not there. "Great," he thought, "no map to help me get to Old Man Taylor."

"If only his magic would work for me right here and now," he thought with urgency. Again, not realizing his power of thinking, the man began to spin in place, light brimming all around him, transporting him to another place and time; suddenly, he was standing right in front of a small forest cabin in an unfamiliar place. He walked up to the door, peeked inside the windows, and there he was. It was Old Man Taylor.

Old Man Taylor looked up from his book and smiled an ancient grin; only the old man could scratch his head at a familiar, old face that was good for him. Old Man Taylor motioned for the man to come in and opened the door. The man walked forward and shook Old Man Taylor's hand nervously.

"Now, to what do I owe this pleasure, young man?"

The man nodded, teetering on his feet, nervous and unsure of how to speak. He mustered up enough courage to explain his situation to Old Man Taylor.

"Well, sir... I seem to have made this world... black and white, by mere thought... And when thinking how to solve it, I thought of you, and when I had no map, I just thought it would be cool to just appear at your door, and here I am!"

The old man stared for a moment in awe at the man at his doorstep.

"Wow, you are a special one; only a few of you come every one hundred years. You are what they call a thought wielder. You can wield your thoughts. Anything you think comes about, and it can be a blessing or a curse."

The man was now as shocked as he had ever been; he remembered back to listening to his grandma read him stories of the thought wielder. The thought wielder was a man who had to control his emotions with balance, or trouble would be sure to come about. Grandma would read this to the man every night before he went to bed to help him realize how much his anger affected his life and also how his endless love and compassion could help the world too.

"In this case, I think I cursed the town to become black and white, and also a solemn, sad town, because I lost my wife and now my frequency is affecting the whole town: doom, gloom, and depression, and now black and white."

Old Man Taylor gave him a knowing gaze.

"I think you know what to do, son."

As soon as the old man said the words, he thought about the black and white place, and he then thought of the world being in color and vibrant again. As soon as the thought was put in his head, the world was restored to color again.

Old Man Taylor smiled and nodded.

"I guess there is power in words after all," said Old Man Taylor with a wide-eyed grin.