step back, back, back...

I have never been awesome with words. The collections of my personal thoughts which I treasure very rarely make it out of my mind in the same form they were conceived. Too cliched, too immature, too verbose... whatever comes out seems different than how it began. I get self-conscious of my words. But I should keep trying, and here I try again.

The gift we have been given to be able to think is so beautiful.
It's ugly, the way we use it. Complaining, blaming others, and hurting people to get what we want is so horribly human, and it seems like people find it irresistible. I get so sick of being around it, when all I want is to be happy... and then I remember that it's me who makes me happy.

Nothing that is going on in my life is perfect, but in a way it's all perfectly right: it's according to plan. It sounds so simple, but so many forget this so quickly: you have total control over how you feel. I have known that torture of letting my thoughts whirlwind out of control, but I refuse to let it run my life.

On this pretty sunrise morning, I feel perfectly in it. This is it, and it's what I have. I'm in God's hands, I'm satisfied, I'm in love, I'm happy. I watch myself fall into grace, and I know this is where I am meant to be. All the little parts of my human life will be done just right by me, if I succeed by keeping my heart in the right place. It's my little cozy island of hope within a filthy world of common disappointments.