I can fly, I can soar
I have it in me, I’ve done it before.
All the time? Everytime?
Hmm..Of that I’m not so sure…
Much of the time I know I am not soaring , not reaching where i can.
Is that called ambition? striving?
Is that what dreams are made of ?
But every other moment, a precious thought intrudes…
certain despite its elusiveness..
“I’m happiest in my now
despite the knowledge of all my different states of being..
with the awareness that i am sitting, walking, running , or flying …
its all me…
all of it is me
it is all of me at that time.
and I am happiest being me.
Isnt happiness what i am right now, not in the constant reaching out for what I can be?
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