Life never really was all rosy. You know that, of course, but it makes you feel better to think there was a time when all was "rosy." That's simply not true, and you know it.
Our life has always been like a finely woven garment having threads of all possible human colors (emotions) that form patterns and images.
As the weavers of our garments, we can choose which colors we weave with, can we not? Some are thrust upon us, this is true, but the others are strictly our own choice, right?
You have the same threads in your life today that you have always had. You are the weaver who chooses to neglect weaving with the beautiful hues you used to use. So what's up with that? Who is left to blame -- not that blame is appropriate in the least -- but the weaver?
We are the weavers, are we not?
Well, then, who is in charge of the colors we see in the garment that is our life? And what stops the weaver from introducing a brand new color of beauty into the garment? Anything stopping the weaver from doing that?
Our life has always been like a finely woven garment having threads of all possible human colors (emotions) that form patterns and images.
As the weavers of our garments, we can choose which colors we weave with, can we not? Some are thrust upon us, this is true, but the others are strictly our own choice, right?
You have the same threads in your life today that you have always had. You are the weaver who chooses to neglect weaving with the beautiful hues you used to use. So what's up with that? Who is left to blame -- not that blame is appropriate in the least -- but the weaver?
We are the weavers, are we not?
Well, then, who is in charge of the colors we see in the garment that is our life? And what stops the weaver from introducing a brand new color of beauty into the garment? Anything stopping the weaver from doing that?