Oh, but I wish it could be . . .
Yeah, if only it was . . .
Why can’t we . . .
Yeah, but . . .
That’s how we’ve learned to kill it, time and again . . . The beauty of the moment, all the wonder of the then experienced, that somehow triggered a deep want, hurt, untruth, and pattern or practiced belief.
We jump out of our timeline, into a past trauma, or imagined future idyll. It’s incredibly useful if we’re allowing the drudging moment to bring awareness to something we’re ready to transcend, integrate, and love. It’s not if it sinks us into self-judgment, shaming, ridicule or numbness. Those energies are the scapegoat of the modern era, and dysfunctional, by design.
We are more.
We are enough.
Love is simpler, and more profound than the incessant mind noise. It’s beyond words and ideas; it’s the breath, the heart beating, autonomic and life-sustaining without a thought or effort or worry.
Through our pains, we (un)learn, and (re)gain wisdom. It is thus, also, through our joys, but we don’t usually think to write down those lessons. We just live(d) them, here, now.