This was going to be a comment in response to comments of my last entry, but....

I suffer through society's conventions. To be happy I have to let the emptiness be empty, which I don't do often enough. God (the term bothers me because of its pronoun) or whatever the permanent source is called is a good filler for the space. It takes practice. I find if I want happiness I have to do the opposite of what I'd normally do, which only says fantastic things about me if I follow through on it. In other words, happiness is a byproduct of healthy thinking. I don't always think healthy--my sweater gets snagged a lot.

My thinking gets hung up for the same reason I like tiny little details like doll house furniture and handwriting and glass beads and Lake Erie rocks and painting on them with toothpicks and shrunken shrinky dinks and witty conversation and food. It's difficult to separate the good from the bad, as we've been indoctrinated to do here in the west.

Breathe.

I can say "it's all good" when my focal point is outside myself instead of me. How can I be the source of all my happiness? I'm just 30 with pimples, wrinkles, a mini van with squeaky brakes, a limited vocabulary, and my life a stone carving: September 14, 1976 -