I often observe that messages I write to others are really meant for myself. Here's some correspondence from last night and this morning that has me thinking.
To friend number 1, I said:
...One day I will get tired of this and begin living again. Just wish I knew a ticket for the express train out of this state of mind.
To friend number 2, I said:
How's the vegan thing working for you? I was a vegan for a while. I keep thinking I want to go back to it, but I like my egg and potato tacos too well. When I was really following it, I got into exercising and meditating and it was perhaps the happiest time of my life -- even though there was no special "love" in my life at the time.
Friend number 2's reply said:
Ya don't need love to be happy.
Though it helps..
I am recalling a blog I read recently on the futility of the "pursuit of happiness" and how we move from pursuing happiness to pursuing love (which we think will bring us happiness) -- an equally elusive prey.
Then there is this dream to which I awakened. I was at a dance, but when the music started I headed for the sidelines where two other women were sitting. It was next to the concession window, and through the window I was handed three drinks. I assumed they were for me and the other two women, although I had not ordered anything. I was surprised when the woman next to me took the coffee for herself, handed the light colored soda to her companion and took the remaining drink and placed it on the floor for her friend -- leaving me with nothing... Time to get into the dance and order up my own beverages...
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