If I were to write without restraint, would you see my soul or judge my sanity?
Sanity is elusive when it competes with the heart.
The heart is not satiated by the intellect, and the intellect cannot reason with the heart. They both swim in their own orbits.
Like the sun and the moon, each orbit complements the other and are never truly isolated in their purpose.
Purpose is recognised when we look beyond the fear and connect with the value that we hold within.
The value we hold within is only considered valuable if it is allowed to create something larger than the sum of our lives.
The sum of our lives must serve more than us, or else it feels inconsequential.
To be of consequence is the heart of fulfilment.
To share what we have is the root of fulfilment.
Gratitude is the fulfilment of fulfilment.
Fulfilment is denied when gratitude is withheld in the face of expectation.
Expectation threatens our composure when we doubt our significance.
Our composure is dependent on our perception of our flaws.
We focus on our flaws and ignore the one who appreciates those flaws to be the very reason why we’re enough because we doubt our significance.
Self-loathing is spawned by our belief that we’re flawed, rather than the reality that we’re human.
To see our humanness requires us to gaze upon ourselves with empathy.
Empathy is subdued through a life of dutiful servitude.
Servitude denies our right to need or to expect, but cherishes our responsibility to fulfil the needs and rights of others.
Rights and needs are most often claimed but seldom respected.
When we forsake our rights and subdue our needs, we lose the sweetness of life and focus validation from others instead.
Validation from others distills into bitterness as we grow aware of the conditional nature of such validation.
Bitterness is the fruit of shame, and shame is born from judgement.
Judgement demands that we view ourselves through the eyes of others, while wearing the lens of our own self-loathing.
It is through this contaminated frame of reference that we shape our contribution to the world, and then judge the world harshly for not recognising our effort.
Our contribution is first done selflessly, then selfishly. Trust is lost between the two motives.
When trust is lost, love is abandoned and hope departs.
When love and hope are absent, life’s passion is dulled, and servitude beckons.
Servitude is the true opium of the masses because servitude deflects attention away from our worth, and directs attention to our utility.
Utility is the saving grace of a life unfulfilled.
