Monday, May 1, 2017
What makes Us Happy
Life does not guarantee
happiness, we keep seeking it in different ways. But do we already have
it and do not see it? That is something that I am contemplating as I sit
here limited in what I can do. I think maybe I am lucky to be able to
find happiness in the little things that I can do.
I know I am not going to be famous for my painting nor am I going to get awards for my writing but do I need them is my question. I go into another world when painting, do I become different when painting or when writing, it is like I go outside of myself to do it. Now I wonder is that place that I go to the real me, or are we different people for different things.
Was I mother earth when gardening and caring for my flowers? Was I a farmer when caring for the farm animals, or was the loving caring woman that raised all of her children, helping them become what they are meant to be. Do we wear different hats for different things. Can we allow ourselves to evolve into what our potential really is or do we stifle ourselves from fear of failure, or of being laughed at.
As I sat here yesterday I was wishing i could do my yard work, that I could get a small camper and just go traveling, then all of a sudden I said to myself and old adage my mom would say," If wishes were horses then beggars would ride". It was then I had a defining moment, Maybe I am doing exactly what is planned for me, maybe I am happy and do not appreciate the fact that happy isn't always what we think it is.
Maybe if we all just relax, take a deep breath and let it all go for a few minutes and as we refresh our electronics maybe that is what we need to do.Do we really have to worry and wonder if a political party is in office, do we really need to wish we could do things we can't , do we need to stress ourselves with needless worries that have no bearing on our lives in the long run.
Something tells me we are mostly doing it all wrong and the hints we get to make changes are ignored. I for one am going to stop and let things happen for I realize that is exactly what I do when painting and writing, I never plan any of it and it gets where I am suppose to put it whether its paint or words.
I know I am not going to be famous for my painting nor am I going to get awards for my writing but do I need them is my question. I go into another world when painting, do I become different when painting or when writing, it is like I go outside of myself to do it. Now I wonder is that place that I go to the real me, or are we different people for different things.
Was I mother earth when gardening and caring for my flowers? Was I a farmer when caring for the farm animals, or was the loving caring woman that raised all of her children, helping them become what they are meant to be. Do we wear different hats for different things. Can we allow ourselves to evolve into what our potential really is or do we stifle ourselves from fear of failure, or of being laughed at.
As I sat here yesterday I was wishing i could do my yard work, that I could get a small camper and just go traveling, then all of a sudden I said to myself and old adage my mom would say," If wishes were horses then beggars would ride". It was then I had a defining moment, Maybe I am doing exactly what is planned for me, maybe I am happy and do not appreciate the fact that happy isn't always what we think it is.
Maybe if we all just relax, take a deep breath and let it all go for a few minutes and as we refresh our electronics maybe that is what we need to do.Do we really have to worry and wonder if a political party is in office, do we really need to wish we could do things we can't , do we need to stress ourselves with needless worries that have no bearing on our lives in the long run.
Something tells me we are mostly doing it all wrong and the hints we get to make changes are ignored. I for one am going to stop and let things happen for I realize that is exactly what I do when painting and writing, I never plan any of it and it gets where I am suppose to put it whether its paint or words.
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