Both
of these qualities, both that of altering nothing, and that of being
dissatisfied with everything, are enemies to repose. The mind ought in all
cases to be called away from the contemplation of external things to that of
itself.
Let
it confide in itself, rejoice in itself, admire its own works; avoid as far as
may be those of others, and devote itself to itself ; let it not feel
losses, and put a good construction even upon misfortunes.
Sometimes
I just let the world roll over me, and then sometimes I insist on criticizing
every little bit of it. On some days I refuse to change anything about by own stubborn
attitude, and then on other days I am thinking or feeling something completely
new at each separate moment.
These
extremes will never give me peace, and the mean between them will only come
from recognizing that the “things” in my life are not the problem. I don’t need
to merely suffer them with frustration, and I don’t need to frantically try to go
about fixing them. My attention is misdirected when I wallow in pain, and my
attention is misdirected when I insist on shaping everyone and everything else
to my will.
Let me
attend to myself. Where I should be constant, as informed by wisdom, let me remain
constant. Where I should work to improve, as informed by wisdom, let me
improve.
At no
time is it necessary for me to be obstinate, and at no time is it necessary for
me to be flighty. It will be as it will be; now how will I choose to be?
Having
been brought into this world as quite an odd fellow, I would struggle a bit
more than most to be accepted or to be liked. I spent many years working toward
something even grander, the hope of being loved for who I was, not from bonds
of blood, or race, or creed.
I knew my
own family loved me, of course, but I somehow felt they had to do that, not understanding how many sons or daughters
were never even given that gift. No, I was waiting, always waiting, for a time
when someone else was willing to say: “I need you.”
That’s really
rather selfish, isn’t it? Take the good circumstances for granted, and then
expect a completely new set of them? When I broke down completely at one point,
when my fancy expectations were shattered, I started to learn the hard way, to
see things a bit differently.
I can’t expect
the love of another, and I can’t demand it, and I can’t claim any right to it.
What I can do, however, is to decide about giving my own love, ask myself to provide
respect, and offer others what I know they rightly deserve.
Am I any
worse off from managing my own choices? Quite the contrary, now I am far better
off. Any more will be a privilege, something I cherish, but it will not be a requirement
for my happiness.
The “things”
will come and go. The affections of others will come and go. I arrived here
some time ago, and I will be gone before I know it. While I am still here, I
have it within my power to think and act with decency.
No loss and
no misfortune can deny me that opportunity. There is that elusive peace of
mind, hardly, as it turns out, so elusive at all.
Written in 12/2011
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