Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

Like an alien appendage.

May 4, 2016

 

You've every right to your happiness. That's what took me so bloody long to realize--we have EVERY RIGHT to our own happiness. 

 

I know. Mind. Blown. 

 

We think, for some reason, that we have to be unhappy--that to make money, to survive, to be solvent in this world, to make sure everyone else is taken care of  means we have to hold tension, we have to submit to forces beyond our control, we have to serve, to slave, to be less than, less of. 

 

And why are we serving others before ourselves anyway? If we're not happy, we can't serve. We don't *want* to serve. In fact, what we want is for everyone else to be as miserable as we are--and we revel in their misfortune. But, make yourself happy, take yourself out of the misery cycle, and you find you want to help, to be of service, to love and be loved. And (!!) you want that for everyone else, too, no matter what.

 

Now, I'm not staying to clutch desperately to your happiness like that Prince concert tee you've been wearing 24/7 (for good reason, mind you), but once you find it, keep that relationship going. Write letters to your happiness--correspondence worthy of tying in silk ribbons and keeping in a box beneath your bed. Share your day with it. Involve it in every meal, every outing, every interaction, and every relationship. 

 

And if, suddenly, you find your happiness shut out, shut away from you, leave the room. Find more space, because, honey, if your happiness is suffocating, you're soon to follow. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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