People are taught to want the common.
It is easier for the world if everyone wants superfluous things like geegaws and faddish clothes.
Buying new cars and houses and cruises keeps the fat cats fed and everyone else running on treadmills where they are too busy doing the habitual instead of thinking, or really living.
Joy is defined in columns of dollars and cents, files of positive and negative tests, being different like everyone else.
The ultimate success can be seen as winning a gig on The Voice, a husband on the batchelorette, or a promotion in a tall building.
All things can be won, bought, or collected! The right ones are supposed to make you healthy, wealthy, and wise. But do they?
What if what makes me happy is something else? Finding that something could be the secret to a truly fulfilled life. One where I don't have to be or do what I see on television.
Striving to be what I am not really only leads to failure. Some people were not cut out to be mothers, or teachers, artists, or race car drivers and all the work in the world will not make them successful at that. Not really. If life makes escaping to work, or sleep, feel good, maybe I am in the wrong place doing the wrong things.
Life shouldn't be years of escapism. Joy comes from immersing myself in what I love.
Grace is not conforming, or even not conforming. It is finding fulfillment in doing what feels right. Not just looking right.
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