I pray my name is written in the Book of Life. I flirted with death so many years, he thought he had me. Spilled my own blood, to make certain I was living. Life was a class I’d slept through, and when I woke up, I was clueless and confused. I watched other people to learn their ways, not being formally educated, vulnerable to ridicule.
Outsiders know they’re missing something, but no one tells them what it is. It’s like a joke you don’t get, but everyone is laughing. Laugh or be found stupid, of course you laugh. Maybe We the People don’t want to be laughed at, though most everyone is laughing at us. We don’t want to think for ourselves, so we see what the news has to say, and give them the power to feed us. Most of it’s not nourishing. People enjoy drama and mayhem. Soft news sells nothing, puts people to sleep. I no longer feel guilty for not watching. I don’t go slow to see the car wreck, and am trying hard not to gossip. I’m staying in my own business. Who am I, to poke around in yours?
Life seems much simpler now. Kinder. Honest. Peaceful. I don’t do things to *make* me happy (but if doing them makes me unhappy, why keep doing them?), but make decisions based on merit. If it’s worth doing, if there’s benefit, I do it and I am happy (if I fail to do it well and it seems worth it, I try harder, work longer, get advice and do it better. If I see that I’m not suited, no matter the effort, I turn it over to those more capable. No shame. No judgment). When I leave this life, I want to be translucent. I want to Love so well, so deeply, there simply isn’t another choice.