I looked out, sought relief. I tried to climb the latter. I've climbed and climbed, only to find that my latter is against the wrong wall. Or maybe climbing is even the wrong exercise.
May I not just reinforce my pride. I don't want failure. But if weakness is exposed in me, may it be more to be given over to the Christ mystery? Might my hopes be set on a power greater than me?
I want to happy all of the time. I don't want to feel sad or uncomfortable. But if I hold on to the notions of what I want to make me happy, might it keep from being held? Might it keep me from true happiness? Might it keep me from an eternal happiness, a happiness that is Universal and for everyone?
Loved. I try and squirm and squish my way to happiness. Trying to fill every crack with the promise of good times and contentment. But the thing about having no more space, is that there is no space for something else. If I'm a solid brick, where can the light shine through? Yet I return to my scheming, to trying to build my tower, to try and make my mark. Confusion. Pain.
Could it be so simple? Is the good news really good news?
