It seems so simple and, at the same time, so impossibly daunting to realize that we are all that stands between us and our own happiness. The air, the sky, the sun, the universe bend over backwards every day in their own delight, dangling wonder in front of us, and yet we trudge on, compounding misery with every egocentric step.
It's fine. It's how it is. But how it is can change. How it is can stop short, for no other reason, than to see the cherry trees blossom, to hear the bees work, to hear the birds call in the day. We don't have to remain creatures of habit. We don't have to remain tethered to our own habit of flatlining, our own habit of routine, our own penchant for mild, daily misery.