List up the problems in your POV.

List up the problems in your POV.

The process of dissolving an undesired POV specialization is simple to describe:

  1. You take your problem to the storyteller.
  2. She gazes at it with you.
  3. It melts away, because you realize that she is you. The storyteller is you—who were, temporarily, more heavily identified with the avatar.

However, it may not be easy to put into practice. First of all, you must be honest with yourself. In other words, whatever appears in your POV, you must read it, the way you read a novel without skipping parts of it.

It may help to know that you do not need to fix your POV.

It is perfect as is. Even when it says “negative” things, it doesn’t matter. If it didn’t tell you the negative things, you’d never have any idea that negative things are inside you. (Recall the boiling water example. If you didn’t scream in pain at the touch of boiling water, you wouldn’t even know you’re being cooked until you are dead. Game over. The story ends here.)

Depending on how heavily your POV is specialized with a given inspiration, some eyework sessions last barely seconds, while others last months or years. 

I’ve experienced both. Please note that, in the cases in which the eyework last “a very long time,” it can be for various reasons. For example: 1) because one isn’t truly facing what’s in the POV, or 2) because one has outgrown the initial circumstances, therefore the storyteller is giving one additional, different inspirations that will, eventually, lead to a greater experience of the blank page and/or desired POV specializations.

The key is that you gotta feel the process in your own body—much like learning how to swim or how to ride a bike.

You can take any problem or any blissful experience to the storyteller. However, as I explained in the previous posts, I think it’s easier to de-specialize from a problem than to specialize into bliss. Also, as I said, simply by de-specializing from a problem, bliss is experienced by default. This is because bliss is our default state. Life isn’t suffering. Bliss is life. When we remove unnecessary POV specializations, the original nature of life is free to be revealed. There is almost nothing else we need to do.

However, I will talk about specialization later, because specialization is also a matter of taste. Not everyone must take a journey where they embark on it without any hotel reservations or flight tickets booked prior to the journey. Some people like to research famous sightseeing locations at the destinations. Having a destination itself is a preference. There is nothing wrong with wanting specific things.

But, again. De-specialization is easier. Plus it makes specialization easier, later.

For now, my goal is to get you to the initial experience of the melting of an undesired POV specialization. Once you experience that, I believe you won’t need any convincing from me or anybody else to take all your hopes, aspirations, dreams, sufferings, and challenges to the storyteller before doing anything in the avatar world. And, once you repeat that enough times, you also won’t need any convincing to realize that it was, from the beginning, all you. You were the storyteller, you were the avatar, you were everything. This will be so much the case that you won’t need “reality” to change—although “reality” will change, because your POV is reality.


I suggest that you pay attention to the problems your POV presents. It can be about work, love, health, money—anything. There are probably various things that bug you or outright put you in a rage.

Of all those things in your life that you see as problematic, pick something that

  • isn’t immediately life-threatening
  • is still significant enough, so that, if that problem were to go away, you would easily perceive relief

For that problem, observe your reactions.


Let’s say that the problem you picked is: My boss hates me.

Related to that problem, perhaps some of these reactions may emerge in your POV:

  • My boss only likes other coworkers.
  • Life is unfair.
  • I must work hard.
  • Why must I work hard? This fucking sucks.
  • I should shut up and just do the work.
  • My boss is an idiot.
  • My coworkers are idiots.
  • I just want to retire and do nothing.
  • Rich people suck.

So on and so forth.

What we do with these is: we take all these reactions to the storyteller. We tell her everything. 

The crucial thing to remember is: she gazes at us with unconditional love. 

Without this gaze of unconditional love, POV examination of this kind could be harmful. Our POV keeps showing us what we specialize in. The more we focus on what sucks, the more sucky things happen. Some worldviews use this fact to conclude that we should “always remain positive” and “ignore what you don’t like.” 

However, the Storyteller’s Eye says 1) that’s not possible and 2) that’s not necessary.

That’s not possible, because of the nature of relativity, which we covered in the previous posts.

And that’s not necessary, because we have the storyteller’s eye. That eye gazes with unconditional love. That broad POV specialization is the foundation of everything we do, in this worldview. That’s why, so long as we use the eye, we can “focus on sucky things” as an avatar, and at the same time, at the storyteller level, see that our story is absolutely perfect. It is exactly where it needs to be. It is exactly where we want it to be. It doesn’t have to stay there—in that sucky situation of the avatar—but right now, at any given moment, it is perfect.

Thus, as you examine the contents of your POV, always remember that you are both the avatar and the storyteller.

I will explain the gaze, in more detail, in the next post.

The worldview tag is best read in this order. The later posts build on the earlier posts.