by Donald
The day after my awakening, I found myself doing something that’s pretty common in prison—making a light. You take the foil from a chewing gum wrapper, fold it in half lengthwise, scratch it against a battery, and place the foil on each side. The reaction pops a spark, and from there, you can light a wick to cook or smoke.
I was in the middle of this process, holding the wick in my fingers, when someone caught my attention. I glanced away for just a second. When I looked back, I didn’t realize it had already caught flame. It burned down—fast—and went straight into my fingers.
Here’s the strange thing: it burned completely out… but there was no burn. No pain. No blister. I kept looking at the charred remains of the wick, rubbing my fingers together, waiting to feel something. But there was nothing. It didn’t make sense. My mind couldn’t accept it. I kept checking, over and over, trying to find the evidence of what I knew should be there—but wasn’t.
And then my mind flashed back to a book I had just finished—Limited to Limitless. There was a section I had struggled to accept. It talked about reaching a higher state of awareness where the mind is more powerful than the body, where you can step outside the pain body and literally walk through fire without being burned. When I read it, I could get behind most of it… but that part? I dismissed it.
Yet here I was—less than 24 hours later—living it.
As I sat there in shock, I realized this wasn’t the first time I’d experienced something like this. My mind drifted back to a night years ago when I was ambushed outside my home. Three men came out of nowhere. One pistol-whipped me in the head, knocking me out for a moment. My dog, Chanel, slipped out the door just in time, barking and lunging at them, buying me the seconds I needed to come back to my senses.
I fought back—hard—managing to drive two of them off while the third ran. When it was over, I called the police. An officer arrived, looked me over, and asked, “Son, do you realize you’ve been shot?”
I looked down and saw a hole clean through my thigh. I had felt nothing. Not then. Not during the fight. Not until afterward. My mind and energy had been completely locked onto one thing—survival. There was no space for pain.
That’s exactly what the book had been talking about. I had read it, refused to believe it, and then life gave me two undeniable reminders.
Sometimes, the limits we think are real are just illusions waiting to be burned away.