Happiness
comes from
contentment.
comes from
contentment.
I fear tearing open the paper pouch because it seems that more brilliance and truth lies in the packaging of a tea bag than in my own emotional scope. I'm trying. I'm trying so hard not to want more than I've got, more than I get to have. I'm trying and failing so well that grace is an unimaginable attribute today. I'm not even trying to fake it, rather I'm trying to keep from slamming the cell phone messenger into the wall or surrendering my attempted composure to primal screams or to just slip into a warm bath of hysterics. What a relief it would be to just let it go and to have it gone and then to be able to go on as the sunny version of me.
I feel feeble and small. I feel helpless next to the piled obstacles. And clumsy. I feel more clumsy now than at any other time I've ever tried walking this road. I've slipped and tumbled and scraped and bruised, then risen to break again. I don't know why I am so bad at this.
[and all this like a message comes to shift my point of view. and watching through my own light. as it tints the shade of you]
I feel feeble and small. I feel helpless next to the piled obstacles. And clumsy. I feel more clumsy now than at any other time I've ever tried walking this road. I've slipped and tumbled and scraped and bruised, then risen to break again. I don't know why I am so bad at this.
[and all this like a message comes to shift my point of view. and watching through my own light. as it tints the shade of you]
2 comments:
I keep checking in, in the hopes that you'll find your tea bag that reminds you that life is what you'll make of it. Chin up, your pain radiates and you are not alone.
After reading what you wrote, it's like you just put this huge jumbled up mess of... conflicts in my head into words and made it all seem like sense and not just a mindful of babble. See, you really aren't alone at all.
Some days are better than others though eh.
:)
Your blog's very very inspiring btw.
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