Maybe I think/talk about this too much, (or maybe not enough?) but I’m consistently revived by what being alive has to offer.

Let me go back.

I think there are a lot of expectations that we put on ourselves. There is this expectation that we should be happy (life, liberty and the pursuit of said happiness), and have certain things in order to achieve that happiness.

And then on the other hand there is the reality, which is that being a human is difficult. There is loss, and loneliness, and overwhelm, and then ambiguity, and all of that.

The clash of the expectation and the reality can be very exhausting to handle. (isn’t it Buddhist philosophy that says unfulfilled expectations cause suffering?)

HOWEVER, when I put all of that aside, and simply notice– I feel revived. Mary Oliver said it best at the end of one of her poems, “… the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.”

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