6 Jan

belas bright ideas

I strive to be happy. Honest, I do. But sometimes I have to ask myself completely and without guile, Is it happiness itself I seek? Or is it the process of striving that captivates me – the push/pull between satisfaction and all that fails to match expectations of what humans and life, itself are capable? 

I know that expectations are like premeditated resentments. The devil is, however (as is so often the case), in the particulars: the nuances and fine tuning of my own inner frequencies. It’s a bit like orchestrating a symphony – getting all the discordant elements in harmony at all times is a tall order. Often I succeed, and other times I fail abysmally in pulling up even with my own standards. Is it simply that I observe all I see, both outside and in, with eyes wide open? And if, as so many believe, consciousness equates…

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