Do Nothing Sunday

Backs still out. Better, but still out.

Catch .22. Book to some, just a phrase to others. All it means is a choice between two equally unattractive choices. The myelitis is set off with heat. With every shower or bath, boom . . . more tingles. What helps my bad back when it's like this: heat. Since I really can't do anything today, it's an even trade off.

Today has given me time to philosophize which I haven't done in a while. I was thinking about searching. We are searching, the difference is for what. I think that if we know ourselves, our path is clear. Our goals are defined. What happens if we know ourselves, yet deny who we are. What happens when you have everything that you've ever wanted right in front of you, yet you accept it for what it is, forget what it took to get it, and seek out the next great thing.

I think it's an empty life. You're always looking for something to fill the emptiness, yet whatever it is, you feel it is never enough. When in actuality, it's more than you could have ever wanted. You're always sacrificing what you have for the great unknown. The thrill is in the hunt and when the hunt is over, it's time to move on to the next hunt. And the next. And the next.

The thought for the day is: Before moving on and denying what you have for the next thing you feel you're missing, look inside yourself and ask if this is replacing, filling, or is the search the true representation of what you are.