Fifty-One
No longer in pursuit of elusive happiness, at fifty-one I acknowledge that I don't have to chase it down. Running after it wears me out. It comes to me when it comes; when it is supposed to be there, it's there regardless of my own efforts to bring it to me.
When it comes, I hold it in my cupped hands like water.
When it comes, I hold it in my cupped hands like water.
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Happy Birthday! At least happiness is water in your cupped hands and not a bubble that disappears when you try to grasp it (as I described it in a poem I wrote a while ago- but I'm better now.)
Heya Dave,
Absolutely. I'm finding out the same thing, aged 31.
Recently had a discussion w/a Goa-based brit (about your age) and a histrionic 20-something kiwi who went on and on about "striving for your goals/happiness/success. That's the only way to achieve ANYthing!"
He and I just looked at her, and thought: "You'll learn...you'll get it eventually." You screw up and are humbled and find other ways to get what you thought you wanted then find what you wanted changed somewhere along the way.
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