Black
then
white are
all I see
in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be,
reaching out to me.
Lets me see.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn beyond the lines of reason.
Push the envelope.
Watch it bend.
Over-thinking,
over-analyzing,
separates the body from the mind.
Withering
my intuition,
missing opportunities and I must
Feed my will
to feel that moment.
Drawing way outside the lines.
Black
then
white are
all I see
in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be,
reaching out to me.
lets me see
there is
so much
more and
beckons me
to look through to these
infinite possibilities.
As below, so above and beyond, I imagine
drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope.
Watch it bend.
Over-thinking,
over-analyzing,
separates the body from the mind.
Withering
my intuition,
leaving opportunities behind.
Feed my will to
feel this moment
urging me to cross the line.
Reaching out to embrace
the random.
Reaching out to embrace
whatever may come.
I embrace my
desire to...
I embrace my
desire to
feel the rhythm, to
feel connected
enough to step aside and
weep like a widow, to
feel inspired, to
fathom the power, to
witness the beauty, to
bathe in the fountain, to
swing on the spiral, to
swing on the spiral, to
swing on the spiral of
our divinity and
still be a human.
With my feet upon the ground
I lose myself between the sounds
and open wide to suck it in,
I feel it move across my skin.
I'm reaching up
and reaching out,
I'm reaching for
the random or
whatever will bewilder me.
Whatever will bewilder me.
And following our will and whim
we may just go where no one's been.
We'll ride the spiral to the end
and may just go where no one's been.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.
Spiral out. Keep going.
-"Lateralus"
Tool, Lateralus
Showing posts with label searching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label searching. Show all posts
Sunday, August 12, 2012
We May Just Go Where No One's Been...
This is a song about magick, life, and the endless possibilities inherent in humanity.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Kicking Against The Muse...
Blah blah blah... what to write, what to write?
Kickball double-header in the July heat coming up in about an hour. Not really looking forward to it much.
Still haven't gotten my computer(s) back. Still no idea when I will.
Really looking forward to getting back into Mass Effect this weekend.
...
This isn't really writing. There's nothing creative or interesting or worthwhile about simply cataloging the most boring minutiae of your daily life.
But I'm stuck in the office, bored-to-death by a mile-high stack of pointless busy-work that I've been groaning through for almost two weeks now, and I've got about twenty minutes to post something before I have to get ready to go to a company fucking kickball game, of all fucking things. What am I supposed to do? Make art?
...
...
...
Yes.
Yes, that's exactly what you should fucking do. Make some fucking art.
If it isn't worth doing, then don't fucking bother. You're just wasting time.
But I'm not an artist. I'm just an approaching-middle-age-teenager; a pseudo-hipster dipshit. A corporate wage-slave. And a wannabe addict/mystic.
Everyone's an artist. Most people just don't bother, is all. All you have to do is make the effort. It will touch someone, somewhere, in some way.
Express, motherfucker!
Um, ok, uh, here goes:
There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?
No, I guess not. It wasn't any good, either.
You're still missing the point. It's not about "Good" or "Bad." "Bad" is inevitable, and "Good" is something that will come with time, or it won't, and there's very little you can do about that, so there's no point in worrying about it.
The point, is to do it.
That's all.
Kickball double-header in the July heat coming up in about an hour. Not really looking forward to it much.
Still haven't gotten my computer(s) back. Still no idea when I will.
Really looking forward to getting back into Mass Effect this weekend.
...
This isn't really writing. There's nothing creative or interesting or worthwhile about simply cataloging the most boring minutiae of your daily life.
But I'm stuck in the office, bored-to-death by a mile-high stack of pointless busy-work that I've been groaning through for almost two weeks now, and I've got about twenty minutes to post something before I have to get ready to go to a company fucking kickball game, of all fucking things. What am I supposed to do? Make art?
...
...
...
Yes.
Yes, that's exactly what you should fucking do. Make some fucking art.
If it isn't worth doing, then don't fucking bother. You're just wasting time.
But I'm not an artist. I'm just an approaching-middle-age-teenager; a pseudo-hipster dipshit. A corporate wage-slave. And a wannabe addict/mystic.
Everyone's an artist. Most people just don't bother, is all. All you have to do is make the effort. It will touch someone, somewhere, in some way.
Express, motherfucker!
Um, ok, uh, here goes:
*cough*
I don't know which upsets me more
That I am saddened by my Self
And my life
Or the Guilt
Stemming from the Knowledge
That I have no Right
Nor Reason
To feel this way at all
I'm a King
dressed as a Beggar
Who will give me Alms?
There, that wasn't so hard now, was it?
No, I guess not. It wasn't any good, either.
You're still missing the point. It's not about "Good" or "Bad." "Bad" is inevitable, and "Good" is something that will come with time, or it won't, and there's very little you can do about that, so there's no point in worrying about it.
The point, is to do it.
That's all.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
My Precious...
I keep forgetting that this all started with Her.
Amid all the psychodrama and melodramatic, existential bullshit at my latest rock bottom, I keep losing sight of how I ended up there in the first place. Of the reason why I started running head-long toward the dark at the end of the tunnel at all. And equally, in the effervescence of all of my recently re-discovered joys, in the heady excitement of my bright, shiny new serenity, I also keep losing sight of the fact that, that reason is now gone. That I got what I wanted all along.
That I'm so in love with Her.
Yes, it's Spring, and that certainly has to be factored into the equation. But that doesn't make anything I'm feeling less relevant, or any less real. For months, and maybe longer, I felt like I'd lost her. (I realize now, I'd actually lost myself.) I couldn't find any reason to be with her, except momentum. I couldn't find any joy in her company, in her touch, or in her place in my life. I realize now that I couldn't find any joy in anything in my life just then, but at the time I was completely focused on her. I thought that We were the problem, that something was wrong with Us that needed to be fixed. That if she could only change, or if I could only learn to be happy without the things I felt I needed from her, then everything would be better. But it never was. It was never good enough. Nothing was ever good enough. And I only ended up more unhappy, and more lost.
I believe my biggest flaw (and I have so many), is how I respond in these situations. When I cannot find joy in my life, when I feel lost and alone, when I begin to struggle to find a reason to keep going, I force-feed myself artificial pleasure in the form of deadly poisons. Now, to be fair, most of the time it's not like that. In fact, I'd say 99% of the time it's just a little here, a little there - just having a good time and blowing off a little steam. And nothing that's even really dangerous, let alone deadly. Under any other circumstance, it's all innocent and under control. No, not "under control," because the truth is that for most of the time, there's nothing there that even needs to be controlled in the first place. But then there's that fatal 1% of the time, when I feel like I have nothing. And believing I have nothing, and feeling that it's all downhill from there anyways, then I might as well enjoy the ride. And that's when I push the plunger on my self-destruct button.
And that's exactly what I did here. I'd made her my entire life, in about the most self-destructive, co-dependent manner imaginable. And so when I felt like I'd lost her, I felt like I'd lost everything. I hadn't, but I couldn't see that from the bottom of the hole I had dug myself into. And when I finally hit bottom, I wasn't even thinking of saving myself from myself. I still hadn't even realized that I was the problem. I thought I was trying to save my marriage. I thought I was trying to find a way to live with her. But I was just trying to find a way to live.
And now I'm so happy, and so overjoyed with every second of every day, blah blah blah. The high of the near-death experience. And it's all such a big distraction, so constantly overwhelming, that I keep forgetting to pay attention specifically to all that I've re-gained with her.
My heart beats faster when I think of her now. It actually skips when she kisses me. Can you fucking believe that? I didn't think that was possible anymore! Everything she does makes me happy right now. Even the things I used to think I couldn't stand. I don't know how I ever felt any other way than I do right now. I'm so grateful for the gift of her life, and the fact that she actually, improbably, inexplicably, wants to share it with me. I look forward to seeing her every day in a way I only distantly remember feeling, long ago. I ache softly inside when I have to leave her. When I make her laugh, I own the fucking world. And when my hands are on her hips, and I pull her to me, and feel every curve of her pressed against my body, I am lost again. But no longer in darkness. Lost in the cloudy depths of her palest-blue eyes. Lost in the scent of her skin. Lost in my lust to reunite with the other half of me. Lost in the warm, comfortable weight of the life we've made, wrapped around us, holding us tightly together. Lost in my joy of Her.
I hold no delusions that this will last forever. Rule #1: everything, everyone, everywhere, ends. But because I know that right now, I am more grateful than I ever thought possible, for every single second I get to be with her. And I remember now, what I had so tragically forgotten:
That She is the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
And that no matter whatever else I may be in my life, the one and only thing I will always be, forever, is Her's.
Amid all the psychodrama and melodramatic, existential bullshit at my latest rock bottom, I keep losing sight of how I ended up there in the first place. Of the reason why I started running head-long toward the dark at the end of the tunnel at all. And equally, in the effervescence of all of my recently re-discovered joys, in the heady excitement of my bright, shiny new serenity, I also keep losing sight of the fact that, that reason is now gone. That I got what I wanted all along.
That I'm so in love with Her.
Yes, it's Spring, and that certainly has to be factored into the equation. But that doesn't make anything I'm feeling less relevant, or any less real. For months, and maybe longer, I felt like I'd lost her. (I realize now, I'd actually lost myself.) I couldn't find any reason to be with her, except momentum. I couldn't find any joy in her company, in her touch, or in her place in my life. I realize now that I couldn't find any joy in anything in my life just then, but at the time I was completely focused on her. I thought that We were the problem, that something was wrong with Us that needed to be fixed. That if she could only change, or if I could only learn to be happy without the things I felt I needed from her, then everything would be better. But it never was. It was never good enough. Nothing was ever good enough. And I only ended up more unhappy, and more lost.
I believe my biggest flaw (and I have so many), is how I respond in these situations. When I cannot find joy in my life, when I feel lost and alone, when I begin to struggle to find a reason to keep going, I force-feed myself artificial pleasure in the form of deadly poisons. Now, to be fair, most of the time it's not like that. In fact, I'd say 99% of the time it's just a little here, a little there - just having a good time and blowing off a little steam. And nothing that's even really dangerous, let alone deadly. Under any other circumstance, it's all innocent and under control. No, not "under control," because the truth is that for most of the time, there's nothing there that even needs to be controlled in the first place. But then there's that fatal 1% of the time, when I feel like I have nothing. And believing I have nothing, and feeling that it's all downhill from there anyways, then I might as well enjoy the ride. And that's when I push the plunger on my self-destruct button.
And that's exactly what I did here. I'd made her my entire life, in about the most self-destructive, co-dependent manner imaginable. And so when I felt like I'd lost her, I felt like I'd lost everything. I hadn't, but I couldn't see that from the bottom of the hole I had dug myself into. And when I finally hit bottom, I wasn't even thinking of saving myself from myself. I still hadn't even realized that I was the problem. I thought I was trying to save my marriage. I thought I was trying to find a way to live with her. But I was just trying to find a way to live.
And now I'm so happy, and so overjoyed with every second of every day, blah blah blah. The high of the near-death experience. And it's all such a big distraction, so constantly overwhelming, that I keep forgetting to pay attention specifically to all that I've re-gained with her.
My heart beats faster when I think of her now. It actually skips when she kisses me. Can you fucking believe that? I didn't think that was possible anymore! Everything she does makes me happy right now. Even the things I used to think I couldn't stand. I don't know how I ever felt any other way than I do right now. I'm so grateful for the gift of her life, and the fact that she actually, improbably, inexplicably, wants to share it with me. I look forward to seeing her every day in a way I only distantly remember feeling, long ago. I ache softly inside when I have to leave her. When I make her laugh, I own the fucking world. And when my hands are on her hips, and I pull her to me, and feel every curve of her pressed against my body, I am lost again. But no longer in darkness. Lost in the cloudy depths of her palest-blue eyes. Lost in the scent of her skin. Lost in my lust to reunite with the other half of me. Lost in the warm, comfortable weight of the life we've made, wrapped around us, holding us tightly together. Lost in my joy of Her.
I hold no delusions that this will last forever. Rule #1: everything, everyone, everywhere, ends. But because I know that right now, I am more grateful than I ever thought possible, for every single second I get to be with her. And I remember now, what I had so tragically forgotten:
That She is the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
And that no matter whatever else I may be in my life, the one and only thing I will always be, forever, is Her's.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Emptying, to Form...
Where am I going with this?
What am I doing?
What's wrong with me? Why am I so unhappy?
What do I want?
Do I love you, completely?
Do I love you, at all?
Or do I just need to feel loved by someone?
...
No. No, that's not the right question. I do love you. We've been through way too much together for way too long, have too much history, for me to not love you. There's a part of me that will always love you, in some way.
The question is, do I love you the way that I'm supposed to? Do I love you the way that a husband should love his wife? Or do I just love you as the one person I've been closer to in my life, and shared more of myself with, than any other?
And is there a difference?
Questions, questions, questions! Everywhere I look it's more fucking questions! WHERE ARE THE FUCKING ANSWERS?!!
...
I've moved out, temporarily. Checked myself into a hotel for the week.
Why? What do I hope to gain from that? Am I just trying to "shake things up" - just introduce a little anarchy into my life to see what happens? Am I just trying to force a random change? Or am I trying to step out of my life, to gain some perspective? Or am I just hiding? Just running away?
I don't know. I don't know if I ever knew.
I'm grasping at straws here. Suddenly, every single little thing is pregnant with meaning. Is this The Answer? Is this what I need? Will this make me better? Will this solve my problems?
How can I get better when I don't even know what's wrong? How can I find The Answer when I don't even know The Question??
Am I looking for fulfillment? Or do I just want a happy, satisfying marriage? Are they mutually exclusive? Or are they one and the same?
...
I keep coming back to this one thought. That I need to clean up my act. That everything will be better, and I will be happy and content, if I just give up the drink and all the rest, start working out and losing weight and eating right, start meditating again and studying the Tao, etc., etc.
But then I also can't shake the feeling that all of that is just a bunch of middle-aged, white, American, liberal, hipster bullshit.
But I'm following my gut, aren't I? That's what I'm doing right now. I'm following my gut instincts, blindly, in a desperate attempt to get away from wherever the fuck I am right now, to someplace, anyplace else.
And it's my gut that's telling me to follow that path. That salad yesterday (my first in I-can't-remember-when; it's been all pot pies and beer lately) was the best thing I've tasted in a long, long time. It's was, literally, unbelievably, shockingly delicious. And there was absolutely nothing special about it - just greens, some veggies, and oil & vinegar. I keep thinking about how wonderful it would be to just spend some time sitting still and being quiet. I keep dreaming of my gomden the way I've so often dreamed of the pipe. That stupid little weekly email quote from Pema Chodron felt like the Universe speaking directly to ME.
And it's my head that's telling me it's all a load of crap.
That means something.
Doesn't it?
But what if all of that only feels right because it's my safety net; because it's safe and familiar because that's what I do when I get lost in these existential crises? ("Existential Crisis" - jesus, talk about a first-world fucking problem. How spoiled of a brat do I have to be to even be taking any of this seriously? But, what, am I supposed to pretend I have the experience of a migrant worker in Guatemala or some shit?? I DON'T. I can only be who I am. And I am a white, middle-aged American liberal, who is fortunate enough to have the luxury of being able to engage in this kind of introspective panic.)
But what if that's what I do when I get in these situations because that's what I'm supposed to do in these situations because that is The Answer to these problems?!
Ugh, this is making me dizzy.
...
And way, way back in the deep down of me, I feel this fear. This fear that I'm going to die here. That I'm never going to get out of this maze of questions alive. That any reprieve is only temporary, and that I will always end up right back here.
That they're going to find me, cold and still on a hotel bed, the same way they found my mother.
I'm scared of the way that feels like Destiny.
...
And She says, "I'm sure it hurts! I can't imagine caring so much about so many things. It must be exhausting! Maybe you should get back into the Tao so you can let things go and ease your pain..."
And I can't help but laugh! She has no idea I've been thinking that, or writing this here, at the exact same time. Out of the mouths of babes...
Is it another sign? Or am I just connecting dots to find the pattern in the chaos that I want to see?
...
Is all of this just because I don't like myself? Is that why I feel compelled to do all of those self-improvements? Because I feel like I would like myself better?
...
When I'm drifting like this, grasping at straws, lost and desperate in this vague and undefined way, I find that I start to obsess about strange things. A lot of the time it starts as ordinary, banal escapism. But sometimes it leads me to the Way Out. The most famous example of this in my life so far, was reading Wild Cards in the bath way back when. In about the strangest way possible, it was those baths that led me directly to my first direct experience of the Tao. Changed my life forever.
Right now, it's The Moth.
I can't stop listening to it. Every story just makes me feel, so much, and so powerfully. And so I guess there must be something about that feel-ing that I need right now, just like I needed to disappear into the warm water back then. I would assume then, that also like the baths, I probably will only be able to explain this obsession in hindsight.
Follow Your Instincts.
It's the only thing I feel like I can do right now. When all else fails (and, let's be honest, all else really has failed here), then Follow Your Instincts.
It's the only thing I feel like I know, for certain.
...
Yesterday, the quote on Zen Pencils reminded me of Bill Hicks' "It's just a ride..." quote. I got a strong urge to submit that quote to the author/webmaster. In doing that, I had to find it in my PDA so I could copy and paste it into the email.
Just now, I needed to go into the same section of my PDA that holds all my little notes and stuff, to look up something else. It was still on the same page with the Bill Hicks' quote. That page is titled "Philosophies."
I have a collection of notes on my Philosophies of Life that I've collected over the years, stored in my PDA - and I had completely forgotten about it!
And there it was, right in the middle of the list: The Tao of ManniMoonYin that had come to me so many years ago under such similar circumstances - the Tao that I had been led to from my bath.
How can it be?? It seems that I've forgotten my Tao:
"All things that are, are change."
("All things that are, are fire." The only constant is change. Nothing lasts forever. EVERYTHING is mutable.)
"You cannot be good. You cannot be bad. You can only be."
(You cannot be "good," and you cannot be "bad." These are entirely relative judgements - what is "good" for one will be "bad" for another, and vice versa. The only thing you can "be," is Michael.)
"Look on the bright side." "Make the most of it."
(This is the only life you get. There's nothing good nor bad but thinking makes it so - so find the good in *everything* - even your mother's suicide was a good thing when you figured out how to look at it right. Choose joy, and you will be joyous.)
"You are amazing. And so is everyone else."
(Glass houses; no one is fit to judge anyone else. Judgement only leads to division, separation, and loneliness. We are all One.)
...
That's 3 coincidences now today, all pointing to the same thing. And today is my 3rd day of this desperate searching.
Even if I'm just connecting the dots in the chaos to find the pattern I want to see, that pattern is obviously deeply meaningful to me in some way. My path clearly leads in that direction. And if I am to follow my instincts, then how can I ignore the pattern I see in the noise, like meaning in an inkblot?
It seems that I have found My Answer.
...
What am I doing?
What's wrong with me? Why am I so unhappy?
What do I want?
Do I love you, completely?
Do I love you, at all?
Or do I just need to feel loved by someone?
...
No. No, that's not the right question. I do love you. We've been through way too much together for way too long, have too much history, for me to not love you. There's a part of me that will always love you, in some way.
The question is, do I love you the way that I'm supposed to? Do I love you the way that a husband should love his wife? Or do I just love you as the one person I've been closer to in my life, and shared more of myself with, than any other?
And is there a difference?
Questions, questions, questions! Everywhere I look it's more fucking questions! WHERE ARE THE FUCKING ANSWERS?!!
...
I've moved out, temporarily. Checked myself into a hotel for the week.
Why? What do I hope to gain from that? Am I just trying to "shake things up" - just introduce a little anarchy into my life to see what happens? Am I just trying to force a random change? Or am I trying to step out of my life, to gain some perspective? Or am I just hiding? Just running away?
I don't know. I don't know if I ever knew.
I'm grasping at straws here. Suddenly, every single little thing is pregnant with meaning. Is this The Answer? Is this what I need? Will this make me better? Will this solve my problems?
How can I get better when I don't even know what's wrong? How can I find The Answer when I don't even know The Question??
Am I looking for fulfillment? Or do I just want a happy, satisfying marriage? Are they mutually exclusive? Or are they one and the same?
...
I keep coming back to this one thought. That I need to clean up my act. That everything will be better, and I will be happy and content, if I just give up the drink and all the rest, start working out and losing weight and eating right, start meditating again and studying the Tao, etc., etc.
But then I also can't shake the feeling that all of that is just a bunch of middle-aged, white, American, liberal, hipster bullshit.
But I'm following my gut, aren't I? That's what I'm doing right now. I'm following my gut instincts, blindly, in a desperate attempt to get away from wherever the fuck I am right now, to someplace, anyplace else.
And it's my gut that's telling me to follow that path. That salad yesterday (my first in I-can't-remember-when; it's been all pot pies and beer lately) was the best thing I've tasted in a long, long time. It's was, literally, unbelievably, shockingly delicious. And there was absolutely nothing special about it - just greens, some veggies, and oil & vinegar. I keep thinking about how wonderful it would be to just spend some time sitting still and being quiet. I keep dreaming of my gomden the way I've so often dreamed of the pipe. That stupid little weekly email quote from Pema Chodron felt like the Universe speaking directly to ME.
And it's my head that's telling me it's all a load of crap.
That means something.
Doesn't it?
But what if all of that only feels right because it's my safety net; because it's safe and familiar because that's what I do when I get lost in these existential crises? ("Existential Crisis" - jesus, talk about a first-world fucking problem. How spoiled of a brat do I have to be to even be taking any of this seriously? But, what, am I supposed to pretend I have the experience of a migrant worker in Guatemala or some shit?? I DON'T. I can only be who I am. And I am a white, middle-aged American liberal, who is fortunate enough to have the luxury of being able to engage in this kind of introspective panic.)
But what if that's what I do when I get in these situations because that's what I'm supposed to do in these situations because that is The Answer to these problems?!
Ugh, this is making me dizzy.
...
And way, way back in the deep down of me, I feel this fear. This fear that I'm going to die here. That I'm never going to get out of this maze of questions alive. That any reprieve is only temporary, and that I will always end up right back here.
That they're going to find me, cold and still on a hotel bed, the same way they found my mother.
I'm scared of the way that feels like Destiny.
...
And She says, "I'm sure it hurts! I can't imagine caring so much about so many things. It must be exhausting! Maybe you should get back into the Tao so you can let things go and ease your pain..."
And I can't help but laugh! She has no idea I've been thinking that, or writing this here, at the exact same time. Out of the mouths of babes...
Is it another sign? Or am I just connecting dots to find the pattern in the chaos that I want to see?
...
Is all of this just because I don't like myself? Is that why I feel compelled to do all of those self-improvements? Because I feel like I would like myself better?
...
When I'm drifting like this, grasping at straws, lost and desperate in this vague and undefined way, I find that I start to obsess about strange things. A lot of the time it starts as ordinary, banal escapism. But sometimes it leads me to the Way Out. The most famous example of this in my life so far, was reading Wild Cards in the bath way back when. In about the strangest way possible, it was those baths that led me directly to my first direct experience of the Tao. Changed my life forever.
Right now, it's The Moth.
I can't stop listening to it. Every story just makes me feel, so much, and so powerfully. And so I guess there must be something about that feel-ing that I need right now, just like I needed to disappear into the warm water back then. I would assume then, that also like the baths, I probably will only be able to explain this obsession in hindsight.
Follow Your Instincts.
It's the only thing I feel like I can do right now. When all else fails (and, let's be honest, all else really has failed here), then Follow Your Instincts.
It's the only thing I feel like I know, for certain.
...
Yesterday, the quote on Zen Pencils reminded me of Bill Hicks' "It's just a ride..." quote. I got a strong urge to submit that quote to the author/webmaster. In doing that, I had to find it in my PDA so I could copy and paste it into the email.
Just now, I needed to go into the same section of my PDA that holds all my little notes and stuff, to look up something else. It was still on the same page with the Bill Hicks' quote. That page is titled "Philosophies."
I have a collection of notes on my Philosophies of Life that I've collected over the years, stored in my PDA - and I had completely forgotten about it!
And there it was, right in the middle of the list: The Tao of ManniMoonYin that had come to me so many years ago under such similar circumstances - the Tao that I had been led to from my bath.
How can it be?? It seems that I've forgotten my Tao:
"All things that are, are change."
("All things that are, are fire." The only constant is change. Nothing lasts forever. EVERYTHING is mutable.)
"You cannot be good. You cannot be bad. You can only be."
(You cannot be "good," and you cannot be "bad." These are entirely relative judgements - what is "good" for one will be "bad" for another, and vice versa. The only thing you can "be," is Michael.)
"Look on the bright side." "Make the most of it."
(This is the only life you get. There's nothing good nor bad but thinking makes it so - so find the good in *everything* - even your mother's suicide was a good thing when you figured out how to look at it right. Choose joy, and you will be joyous.)
"You are amazing. And so is everyone else."
(Glass houses; no one is fit to judge anyone else. Judgement only leads to division, separation, and loneliness. We are all One.)
...
That's 3 coincidences now today, all pointing to the same thing. And today is my 3rd day of this desperate searching.
Even if I'm just connecting the dots in the chaos to find the pattern I want to see, that pattern is obviously deeply meaningful to me in some way. My path clearly leads in that direction. And if I am to follow my instincts, then how can I ignore the pattern I see in the noise, like meaning in an inkblot?
It seems that I have found My Answer.
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