Being vs Doing

I hate Christmas

 

I hate Christmas.

Ok. 

I said it.

I hate the very idea of decorating our homes, with bright, shimmering lights, in the middle of Fall. Yes, Fall.

Feel free to hate me at the very core of my ignorance but I am just not ready to inundate my senses with all these magical grand illusions of twinkling lights and enchanted ferries.

I hate Christmas.

I hate many things, but I definitely hate Christmas.

I hate the fact that everything is on sale. That black Friday is upon us. That everyone is rushing around trying to buy something, anything. It seems like everyone is planning their Christmas or March Break vacations, Christmas dinners, or how to not make an ass of themselves at the office Christmas party. At least not this year. Or at least not anymore.

But for me the world got really dark. 

For me, I entered into an all-consuming period of loneliness.

I am not sure what I did to deserve becoming its lovely host, each and every year since I was a small child, but I have resigned myself not to resist anymore. Darkness has become my lovely friend.

These days, the sun rises late, and it sets far too early. The few moments of sunshine that are left, I ignore, by working in an ugly portable, away from what matters, pretending that I know something.

Please forgive me if I don’t get overly excited over tinsel and stockings. Forgive me if I don’t get overly excited to rush around, fighting for a parking spot of a crowded mall, while trying to imagine what to buy, and what joy it will be when I pay it off, a year from now, or at some point, I’m sure. I’m so grateful to the credit companies for their generosity and extended credit at this, my greatest time of need.

I’m lonely and I strangely alienated. I’m a Scrooge, devoid of all magical Holiday Spirit. Yes, I am a cancer to your glee and generosity. In November. Yes, November.  

They say that a child ends up spending less than fifteen minutes playing with their Christmas present before they get bored and look to do something else.

Fifteen minutes.

Is it worth it.

I don’t really hate Christmas.

I like it.

I just wish we were nicer to each other, especially through the dark days of November and December. I wish we didn’t pretend to care when we don’t. That we didn’t make promises, we don’t intend to keep. I wish we were a little more human. A little more lonely.

I wish we were more in touch with our loneliness.

Being lonely is not easy, but I no longer run away from its embrace.

I am lucky that I have never looked for shelter with drugs or alcohol. I don’t distract myself with binge watching television shows or get engrossed with the latest gossip on the internet. I struggle with overeating at times, that’s for sure. Food is my drug of choice. My dirty habit, but even here, I’ve managed to find a teeter totter type of balance of sorts.

We are lonely people.

Why do we treat our loneliness as a morbid debilitating disease?

Why are we not kinder to ourselves?

We are just longing for something. Searching for something. We want to know we are not alone.

At this time of year, I miss my mom and dad the most. I wonder when it will be my turn, and if I will be missed at all. I look back and smile at the silly things I’ve done and the mistakes I’ve made. I glance back at all the dreams that are still unfulfilled and most of all I long to live the rest of my days with a deeper purpose, with more meaning.

There is no reason to hate Christmas.

There is no reason to hate loneliness either.

As long as you don’t face it down alone.

 


the infinite game

 

Life is not a test.

But we often treat as one. We live our lives like a set of hurdles to overcome or a predetermined set of instructions to follow.

We are always at the ready, to study or to cheat someone or something, in order to achieve better results. We embrace the process of measurement. The feel the need to define, judge and be judged by others. We hate the very idea of infinity and more specifically, not knowing how we measure out against those we’re competing against. 

We want to win.

We want to nothing more than to declare ourselves Champions. Champions of the game of life.  Yet we are always stuck in a self-absorbed, mindless, results driven, data centered life, that all too often, leads to a burden which often consumes and makes us sick.

Life is not a test.

Life is a game.

An infinite game.

If there is a God, or even if there isn’t, all of existence and all the natural laws point to the fact that we were born to take part in everything. To do it with gusto. To live our lives and not merely exist. To become who we know we are meant to be. To be happy.

Such is goal of the infinite game.

A game we have always played, but sometimes forget that we play.

In the infinite game, there are no winners or losers, because the point of the game isn’t to separate the strong from the weak, but to spend some meaningful time together. To celebrate. To relish. To cherish. To find meaning and purpose in our lives.

You might be tired and frustrated this morning, probably because you are playing a finite game.

You’ve decided, on the advice of your guidance counsellor, that you must be someone or have something in order to be worthy, or belong.

You exist in the realm of doing, but you need to shift your energy leap into the universe of being.

The infinite game is pretty simple, although the rules themselves can become quite complex at times. But that doesn’t even matter because mistakes aren’t disastrous roadblocks, like they are in the other contest, they are simply fascinating lessons, to carry with you, in order to sharpen your skill, and become a better player.

Life is a game to be played with friends and strangers alike.

It is an infinite game precisely because it never ends. It can be played anywhere and everywhere. In all seasons, and on all budgets.

When you go to dinner with your dearest friend, for example, you certainly won’t go out, so you can become less hungry, and to continue your noble quest not to die. I think you’ll go out to share a meal together, to experience each other’s company, to laugh, or perhaps to cry, but the meal, the meal itself, is an inconsequential part of the equation.

We are funny creatures.

As finite beings who need to face our own mortality we become quite miserable when we engage in finite tasks and limited adventures. We are only happy, truly happy, when we participate in things that stretch beyond the temporal world. When we enter the real of faith, hope, and love. We are happy, when we don’t know why we are happy.

I encourage you to take a stand and decide which game you are going to play.

I strongly recommend investing more time in an infinite contest. The finite one has too many cranky, bitchy people in it, who are fighting over a very small square of space, while you have the opportunity to walk anywhere and be anything, surrounded by the luscious infinity of space.

Go out and play.

Never stop playing.

Enjoy the rehearsal.

Performance is a finite trap.

 


life is not fair you said

 

Life is not fair, you said.

You finally stopped talking, for a moment, and you pondered the futility of your situation. You lovingly gazed into my eyes, searching for an answer, but instead you found munificent silence.

Not the, I told you so kind of silence. Nor the, I don’t know what to say, so I will just say nothing at all, kind of silence. In me, you found a compassionate, challenging, kind of silence. The kind that understands the question and sees a way out, but also knows the cost and the unavoidable price for being a human being.

Life is not fair, you said.

I agreed.

Life isn’t fair.

Being black is different than being white. Being Indigenous, at least in North America, is something completely different, all together.

Practicing and sharing your Muslim faith in the United States of America, or expressing your Christian values in Iran, let’s say, will present its own set of challenges, to say the least.

Life is not fair.

Whomever did you believe that told you otherwise?

Nothing will make the reality any easier when your child is born with cerebral palsy, or dies too prematurely. When you can’t have children at all, or find yourself in hell fighting post partem depression.

Life won’t be fair when your husband of thirty-five years, had an affair for thirteen of those seemingly precious years.

Nothing can really help you deal with the destructive reality of your brother’s gambling addiction. Or that your sister is a drunk. Or that you have an inoperable tumour.

Every stage of life, no matter who you are, or where you are, presents its own set of scrapes and struggles. I almost said problems, but they are not really problems.  They are challenges. Life is not something to conquer and overcome.  Life is something to experience and live. The struggle is the fuel. It’s not about doing, it has always been about being.

There is no point gathering wood for your fire, if you have no intention of doing something with the light.

I hope you can see that there is so many things you can do with that glorious light!

Life is not fair, you said.

And you are right.

I answered in my silence.

It is not fair, but it is still worth living.

Viktor Frankl, a beautiful man who survived the hell of Auschwitz, gave us a transformative insight about our last human freedom.

When it is all going wrong. When the pangs of hell are at your door; the attitude you take towards your unavoidable suffering or the things you cannot change, is your last and only hope. It is more powerful than you would care to believe.

It’s not easy.

You cannot measure a person’s pain or the depths of their sacrifice. You cannot count the cost or fully repay the debt you owe to those that helped you along the way. 

Life is not fair, but I believe that is whole point of it all.

Right to the end. Despite of everything. You get to choose how you feel, think, or what you want to do. Your attitude towards the unavoidable reality of your life is yours. It is magnificently placed in your hands. It doesn’t change the truth or intensity of your situation, but it does build your character, and it makes God smile.

No one will be shocked if you give up. No one will blame you if you quit. If the burden of your agony buckles you at the knees.

There is no right or wrong answer. Your life and the decisions that you make are simply beyond all measurement. No one can judgement. Not even you. In fact, there is never a right or wrong time to do anything. There is no magical place. The right advice. Pivotal insight. Maps. Guides. Badges of accomplishments or monuments of greatness.

There is no thing. Nothing. Just you and the universe that is set before you.

You are never out of chances or possibilities.

You control your last human freedom.

Life is not fair, you said.

I agreed and answered in the undeniable silence of your attitude towards the things you cannot change.

 


the glass half-full, half-empty debacle

 

The glass may be half full, but it sure as hell ain’t half empty!

Reading the Ben and Rosamund Zander incredible book, the Art of Possibility, I realized recently that this seemingly age-old example, that so clearly divides the pessimists from the optimists, is nothing more than a distraction from the real, meaningful questions.

There is a glass.

It’s half full. 

Why?  I don’t know.

You are asked to decide if the glass that you see, or metaphysically behold within your mind’s grasp, is half full or half empty.

If it is half full you are an optimist, if half empty, you are a dejected pessimist.

But let’s hold on for a moment.

Clearly there is some water in the glass and there is the glass, but how to you behold, measure, evaluate and embrace nothingness?

If you believe the glass to be half empty, you draw a line in the sand, and disappear into futility and absurdity. You place yourself on the side of something that doesn’t exist.

The same holds true for the word nothing.  The word is an illusion because it is a placemat for everything that doesn’t exist. But if it doesn’t exist, then certainly it doesn’t need a placemat, because we never need mention or think about it again.

Welcome to the linguistic cluster stank.

I think we need a better question. A better analogy and a fresh metaphor.

What if we were asked if we would bring a fish finder on our boat, while we angle our way to some Large Mouth Bass or a Muskie?

How would we answer?

If you would bring a fish finder on your boat, you are concerned with catching a big fish. You want to measure your experience.

As a sense of pride, investment, or just because you’re hungry, you will judge and evaluate your day based on what is in your belly or in your fridge.

Catch nothing, and it was a wasted trip. Catch a lot, and you will return over and over again.

If you don’t bring a fish finder, or even leave the boat at home, and simply cast your fishing rod into the lake or river, you are going to measure your experience by something else.

You are probably with someone, or are seeking peace and solitude on your own.

There is nothing to measure and judge.

Being surrounded by nature, being close to the water, enjoying your home-made sandwich, and your thermos tea, gives you validation why it is wonderful to be alive. How great it is to be human.

The same can be said of swimming.

If you are Malcolm Phelps, your goal is to swim the fastest from one end of the pool to another. You chase gold medals. You are satisfied with silver and bronze. You feel dejected if you don’t make the podium.

If you are a competitive swimmer, you judge your day by the strides you have made or lost. You base your happiness on a measureable outcome.

If you put on your board shorts on the other hand and go surfing, or you dawn a polka dot bikini, and head to the ocean for a swim, you involve yourself with something completely different.

There is nothing to accomplish by swimming in the ocean. There is nothing to do. Nothing to find. Nothing to conquer. Nothing to regret and push towards.

It’s just you and the ocean. United at last. Happy and glorious.

So, drink your glass of water because hydration is good for you.

Grab a snack and head to some water.

Stop judging your day, begin to imagine the possibilities!

 


threatened to pieces by change

 

People are often threatened by change.

The core of their being is fortified and stunted by just the idea of something new. Just watch them. Observe their eyes and their defensive posture.  Listen to what they say. Hear what they don’t say. Absorb and listen to their trembling excuses of fear.

It is always scary to look ahead, to go where you have never been. It is hard to move forward, to grow, to adapt, or transform yourself, especially when the comfort and experience of who you are, is right there, calling you back.

You don’t like who you are. Deep down, if you’re honest, you dream of being and living a more purposeful existence.  You hope for a new direction. You long for some kind of intervention, a sign in the sky, or perhaps a little push, from someone, anyone, in the right direction.  

The right direction.

But there is no right direction.

There is no such thing as the right thing to do, or right place to go, because change cannot be truly measured. It must be lived.

Success is something we are, not something we do. It cannot be measured, because our means of measurement changes with the passing of time.

Sure, you can count your money, your followers, or the square footage of your vacation property. You can count a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean anything. Through it all, you are the only constant. You are the only thing that matters. You are a person who needs to change, if you are to get to where you dream of being.

What do you dream of? Who are you? What is holding your back?

When you were young, you wanted mountains and mountains of candy. As you got older, you wanted a car, or perhaps a beautiful partner that could silence a room with his or her entrance. As you grew older still, you began to measure success by your health, the time you had to do what you wanted, and the people that gather by your side. Tomorrow, you will be different still.

Tomorrow, you won’t want the same things you wanted yesterday.  You won’t settle for yesterday, because tomorrow brings with it a new set of glorious possibilities.  Tomorrow, your very life will whisper some new possibilities of change.

The more wisdom you learn to embrace, the more you realize that life is about being, and not about doing. There is certainly a myriad of people that appear to better and more successful than you. They have more than you. They were there first. They know something. They managed to carve out their piece of the playground first.

But.

It’s not about them. It’s about you.

You are resisting your own magnificent conversion. You just won’t change. You run and hide. Choosing to be afraid of making a ruckus; of making a real difference. Whatever that difference is, you don’t have the courage to stare down your own greatness. You need to stop running away from becoming and being, who you were always meant to be.

You need to stop being threatened by change.

You refuse to let go. You refuse to embrace the temporary state of failure. You’ve been taught that failure somehow exposes who for who you are, when in fact, it is only a fleeting moment, in an unmeasurable ocean of time.

You seem somewhat arrogant.  Arrogant, to think you can learn to hammer a nail with only one, single, momentary, brilliant stroke of execution.

Let go.

Learn to hammer a lot of crooked nails.

Learn to leap.

Learn to fail and expect to fail often.

Learn to walk and dance with fear. To live and salsa with uncertainty.

Embrace change.

In the end, life is nothing but change.

 


a universe of possibilities

 

We can’t escape or avoid the world of judgement and measurement.  This is certainly good, in a sense, because it shows us reality. It identifies who we are and where we are. It keeps the dim lights separated from the bright lights. It allows for some of us to make French fries, while others get to perform the tedious task of brain surgery. I hear it’s tough to make really good French fries, especially without saturated fats.

Ben and Rosamund Zander identified something magical in the Art of Possibilities.

They showed me a way out.  A new way of thinking about my life, both where I have been and where I have a desire to go.  They outlined a new way of doing things. A fresh way of thinking. 

It is not a new way. It has been around for a very long time. It is open and accessible to anyone and everyone. It is free and certainly worth embracing. In short, it is the path we struggle to take, because it leads to a universe of possibilities.

The world of measurement is comfortable.  It is comfortable precisely because it is scarce and can be counted.  It is real, unavoidable, and often for these reason, very burdensome, but the splendid universe of possibilities, is not.

The universe of possibilities rests and will forever rest in our imagination, until we make it real.  Until we crawl, walk, run, and sprint towards what’s possible.  The universe of possibilities is missed by so many, because too often we are undecided, we weight our options, weighing, feel guilty, feel shame, regret, never giving life a second, or fifteenth chance. 

We refuse to give the possibility of what could be a real chance.

But the universe of countless possibilities is not a burden.  It is also not some positive, abstract, drunk, fleeting thought of fancy.  A magical land of lollipops and rainbow unicorns.  The people most invested in world of measurement, of judgement and gossip, are the ones that try to convince you otherwise.

The universe of possibilities is undefined.  It is unique to every single person.  It simply asks why not? 

It doesn’t negate or deny the reality you currently find yourself in. It will not help you pay your rent. Fix your broken marriage, or regenerate your poor, black, smoker’s lung.

It can’t give you back time.  It doesn’t make fraudulent promises.  Not does it whisper seductive jingles or offer you sure, tried, and tested short cuts.

The universe of possibilities only offers hope.  Hope that if you have faith in yourself.  If you have faith in what has not yet been written or preordained.  If you believe in freedom.  If you have love for yourself, forgiveness in your heart, and a soul open to reconciliation, the world of possibilities shows you the things that you can do, despite the things that you certainly can’t do.

It shows you that while it is important to struggle to do, it is immeasurable and infinitely more important to be.

This is a vast topic.  There are so many little nuances that need to be touched on and threaded out over time, but I made a promise to myself and to you to keep this short.

In the meantime. Keep dreaming. Strive to be better. Improve your score, your wealth, and your circle of influence.

Keep dreaming.  Keep your faith.  Keep hoping.

It is all possible. 

Two women looked out of their prison window and gazed at the world outside their reality.  One saw the stars and got lost in the infinite distance of space and possibility.  The other one saw the bars on the window, counted them, and resigned herself to remain a prisoner of her own making.

 


the world of judgement

 

In their inspirational book the Art of Possibility, Ben and Rosamund Zander speak about the world of measurement. A world we all know too well. A world that judges us and in turn is judged by us. The results are often crippling. We hide from the life we wish to live, but I wouldn’t be writing this if there was no hope. Indeed, there is an infinite universe of possibilities. 

We judge not because we are mean, but because as children, we were somewhat helpless and needed to identify, with some gusto and efficiency, the things that would help us or hurt us.  There were indeed many dangers lurking on various corners and staircases, when we were young, and our ability to measure and judge served us well by increasing our safety and preserving our security.

The problem is, as you and I grow up, less and less dangers present themselves, at least here in the free world.  As we become adults, we became capable of handling many situations, and are prepared to handle many things.  We are no longer afraid of campfire ghost stories, our school bullies, or our countless nightmares.  We became confident in navigating our way through the brave new world, but our childhood habits of judgement and measurement, are never quite abandoned, and so we continue to employ them in our service.

The world of measurement and judgement limits us.  It sentences us to repeat our past mistakes.  It forces us to do the same things, and reap the same rewards.

We become our own nightmare, our own worst critic. 

Our hearts are filled with doubts and our minds are often full of regrets. 

Full of I told you so.  I knew this would happen.  What was I thinking?  Nothing good ever happens to me.  Full of thoughts that you’re not worthy.  That you don’t deserve this. 

But who do you think you are?

Who gave you right to judge yourself?

When we attack ourselves, those closest to us are rendered helpless.  They are more than willing to spring into action when a stranger raises his fist against us, or a keyboard warrior spews garbage in our direction on Facebook.  They are rendered helpless however, when we run away and judge ourselves useless.

They become helpless to help us.  They are unable to show us who they see.   

And we are blind to their attempts anyway.

They hold part of the truth of who we are, and we need to listen and hear them out.

It’s not easy to silence the world of judgement.  It is a habit that comes easy and springs up in everything we do.  Regardless of how hard it may be, we have no choice but to fight against it.

Beautiful women hide from the world, because they have come to compare themselves to a Photoshop illusion.  They cringe and cannot accept a genuine compliment.  They are unhappy with their weight.  They are unhappy with growing older.  They are unhappy but they persist in measuring themselves against others, of judging themselves against their younger self.

It is a war they cannot win.

Young people try so hard to achieve in top marks school, and some end up depressed, burdened with ulcers, or opioid addictions.

They are so quick to struggle and fight against the world.  To tell you how unfair the whole system is, and in the same breath they accept and embrace the world of measurement.

The world of measurement says that our resources are limited.  There is not enough for everybody.  We have to hide and protect our stuff.  As Frank Slade in Scent of a Woman so beautifully puts it, “its fuck your buddy, cheat on your wife, and send your mother a mother’s day card on mother’s day”.

We measure and judge ourselves to death.

We have created a culture of death.  A ladder which keeps us from meeting and getting to know each other.  A world of doing that keeps us away from being.

You need a universe of possibility.

A place where anything is possible.  A magical land where dreams take flight.

You need hope.

You need tomorrow.

 


no one will remember

 

One day it will all be a distant memory.

And it doesn’t matter what you do. 

It doesn’t matter if it what you experience today or lived out yesterday was good or bad.  Happy or sad.  Memorable or somewhat forgettable.

It doesn’t matter what you do.  It doesn’t matter, because everything, no matter how insignificant, how grand, embarrassing or otherwise, will one day be forgotten. 

Our mistakes and bruises, as well as our many disappointments and transgressions, will soon be forgotten and overshadowed by the art of living. 

You see, we were born with an expiration date.

We are no different than a carton of milk at the supermarket.

One of the great benefits of growing older, is not having enough time to keep track of every mistake or transgression that caused us to stumble. 

We were not granted the time to look back, or concern ourselves with what was, or what could have been.  It is not important.  We are people faith and hope.  Individuals living our lives forward and the future doesn’t depend on our past.

Even if you try.  Even if you persist and stomp your feet.  In time, everything fades, blurs, and becomes a distant passing memory.  The intensity of the moment fades.  We forget why, how, or how often.

So, it really doesn’t matter if what you experienced up to now has been virtuous or corruptible, joyful or melancholy, unforgettable or unremarkable.  It doesn’t matter.  What matters, however, is who you were and who you want to be.

You.

Not who you were but who you are.  Who you want to be.

I am not diminishing your real pain and the agony you might have suffered.  Far from it.  What you have endured and overcome is very courageous.  I am simply musing about the past, and how to leverage that experience and redeem the future.

It is really important to redeem our future.  It is important to hope.  To strive forward.

We simply cannot let the bastards grind us down. 

You have no right to hunt yourself down either.

All our actions and thoughts, ultimately end up in a rusty, unassuming, storage container, buried deep inside our unconscious mind.  Yet as we grow and dance with wisdom, our very character, the person who we are, who we have become and want to be, is ever more amplified and manifest itself ever more emphatically.

This is why, it is invaluable that we remember who we are, not what we have done, or what was done to us.   

We were born to be.  To be great.

For that reason, we must focus on our character, and developing that character, and not get hung up on our mistakes. 

Let the dead bury the dead.  Let the past remain the past.

No one will remember. 

No one will care.

Your memories will be a bit hazy too.

When you look in the mirror who do you see?  Do you see someone that makes you proud or do you avert your own gaze?  Someone memorable or forgettable?  Someone joyful or sad?

Don’t be so rough on yourself.

Remember that mistakes are events.  They happened. 

You are in the in the present.

The decision you make today, is not predetermined by what you did yesterday.

You are free to be.

Mistakes belong to the business of doing. 

Your life belongs to the art of living.

You won’t remember anyway, so take solace in your hope, by doing something today, that will make you into someone, you won’t hesitate to share tomorrow.

Forget your mistakes.  Don’t cover yourself with ugliness.  Don’t carry your regret and guilt alone.

Allow yourself to forget.

No one will remember.

Focus instead on who you are.

Who you dream to be.

 


you see what you want to see

 

Seeing things for what they are, is a tricky business.  I relearned this week that the human mind, before it hears or accepts any new information, grapples with it first and decides where it will put it.

You decide your response before you listen. 

You don’t respond, you seek a reason to move on.

This means that depending on your mood, your well-being, your prejudices and biases, you will hear and hear again, and not understand.  Which explains why some people cannot see the terror they are inflicting on others, not that this excuses them in any way, shape, or form.

We see what we want to see.

We see what we have been preconditioned to see.  What we accepted to be the truth.

Case in point. 

Up here in Canada, it’s hockey season.  My son has once again decided, or was somewhat encouraged, to lace up his skates yet again.  He plays in a House League, and it is a noticeable difference from the Rep hockey experience.  He is a beautiful eight years old boy and we are trying to shield him from any possible concussions, or unrealistic expectations of winning at all cost. 

House league is perfect for us.  There is less pressure, a bit less nutty parents, and just about less of everything for that matter. 

If our goal for him was to become a professional Hockey player, House League would be a mistake, but we are willing to take that risk.  Choosing instead to expose him to art and music, or perhaps to a memorable, happy, carefree childhood.

The last game he played, our team won 7-1. 

It was clear from the very beginning that this would be an uneven contest.  Our parents cheered their kids, right to the very end.  They cheered loudly.  The clapped loudly.  They cheered on the first goal, with the same enthusiasm and tenacity, as they did the seventh.

And that was the problem.

A parent from the other team became livid and insatiably angry.  They ranted and raved.  Thrashed and cried.  Told anyone that would listen about the insolent sportsmanship they were witnessing.  They complained to the league convener.  They tried everything they could, to right a wrong, and I would too, if I saw what they saw.

But I didn’t.

What they didn’t see or know is that five of the seven goals had been scored by kids who have never, ever scored before.  Their parents, and grandparents were overcome with excitement, because it was something truly special to behold, and may not come around again. 

I wonder how angry the parent would have been, if they knew the other side.

We see what we want to see.

When you dig for gold, you will either get discouraged by all the dirt you’ve fought through, or you will stay faithful and hopeful, that you have a good sense to believe that there is gold to be mined.

You should definitely always look for the gold.

Don’t get absorbed and buried by the dirt.

At the end of your life, your friends and family, will certainly do that part for you.   But in the meantime, there is no reason to live the life you don’t want to live.  There is no reason to become who you dream of being.

But perhaps there is. 

That reason is you.

In the final analysis, it is you who decides what you see. 

You will either see the rain that provides life to everything, or the relentless moisture that fucks up your new hairdo and spoils your wedding day. 

You can either embrace the people that love and respect you, or bitch and moan about the people, who truly cannot stand you, even when you’re far away.

You can see your failures as a new beginning, or you can see them as another proof of your wretchedness.

You see, you see what you want to see.

You do what you want to do.

So search your heart and ask yourself why? 

Don’t take the next step.  Decide and know why you are taking the next step. 

You don’t have to know where you are going, as long as you know where and who you no longer wish to be.

You must walk somewhere, so you might as well, step forward, with some courage, purpose, and a smile.

Happiness is not a state of doing, it is state of being.

So, begin to see things you might typically ignore.

Take the time to listen.

Slow down.

You were born with wonderful talent, so focus on the good you do. 

Focus on where you want to be. 

The rest is just a sea of endless possibilities.