We each pine to express our uniqueness. Is it absurd to take ourselves seriously, and resolutely search out a means to discover and express the story that plaits a modicum of coherent reality out of our existence? Is it ridiculous to garner joy from walking in the woods, spending dashes of time intermingling with family and friends, and by working unerringly at our jobs? Is it right to take solace in minor moments of wonder woven together similar to strands of wool in a familiar sweater? Can I wring joy from the snug encounters of daily living by participating in an interlinked web of community of life? Can I foster goodwill by saturating my heart in time-tested faith?Kilroy J. Oldster, Dead Toad Scrolls
It can be the life or death of us.
Everyday we choose between expression or repression.
To repress is to wilt.
To wither under the weight of judgment.
To weave past into present, and ultimately the future.
Lean into the resistance.
That might just be the truth.
Uncomfortable as it is.
That is the gift.
For yourself, and others.
Maybe that is the freedom you sought after.
Maybe that’s what changes your life.