He knows how to get my goat
(and he always goes after it, too.)
And as much as I desire to solely exist in some blissful state
of peace and harmony,
he, again, manages to elicit a "violent" response from me.
This time, raising my green, metallic water bottle towards him in
a menacing fashion, I notice myself and immediately respond, with a chuckle,
"So much for my non-violent ways!" ; )
I dunno... in life on planet Earth force seems to be intrinsically
connected to survival. But, hey, maybe that's just me!
I can feel the judgment ~ both my own and how it affects my withering body as well as that of others. It never feels good, yet it's not unbearable. It just is - kinda like praise. Equally available in too strong or too weak of doses - a potent medicine that can either be an addiction or a relief. Like everything, balance seems to be the key.
And, I guess I've just arrived at this place where I enjoy the process, including
the contradiction as well as the discomfort. I don't need to be liked and I don't need to be read.
I simply offer ~ my words here on the screen and my attention there in the moment.
I guess I've just finally decided to not dim my light any longer. Although, ask me that tomorrow, and maybe you'll get a different response.
Life is what we create. Importance is relative. We all live and we all die. The question is: what do we do during the interim?
