The best way to improve your own happiness and well-being is to practice gratitude. If you've never done this before, this sounds ridiculous, or silly, or maybe like someone is trying to swindle you out of getting less than you deserve. But I promise, gratitude is the only way to see that you are already overflowing with gifts, more than you can ever even appropriately conceive of, and that you owe your existence to an impossible, beautiful debt that can never be repaid.
I used to have a lot of bitterness in my heart, and I'd nurse it on petty miscalculations, an imagined ledger in which I was aggrieved and had been wronged simply because I wasn't getting whatever little thing I wanted in that exact moment. Letting go of that is freedom. A fundamental perceptive shift. It'll allow you to feel an unparalleled joy that cannot be taken away because of an errant whim or a stray thought.
And even after you've gone through this process, there will be people who will insist that you're being delusional and stupid, that actually you SHOULD be mad and bitter. You should nurse yourself on vengeful thoughts like you're drinking venom from a snake. The fact that you're not suffering because of this obvious injustice means you're an ignorant fool.
If only they could see it for a moment, a single moment, the freedom that comes when your ungratefulness no longer imprisons you.
If you're thinking it's a much better bargain to be a whore than a housewife, then I'll tell you this—at some point, being a whore becomes really fucking boring. The excitement of a city with a million doors, cigarette ash on your thigh glittering in your virgin eye like moonbeams, all those possibilities, soon gives way to despair when you realize every door leads to the same place. Ooh, this bar serves their drinks in coconuts, and this one makes spicy margaritas, but it's all tequila, and this man who offers you cocaine wants you to look at you from behind while you bend over and snort has blonde hair, and the next one still wants to bend you over, but this time he's a brunette. This party is in a warehouse, and this one is a loft, and this one is in a private house in the country with a swimming pool, and all the drugs look so enticing, but they still make your head swim so that you stop caring where you are at all.
All of the men have different faces, but eventually you'll figure out it's the same man, a copy repeated over and over, and they all want you to listen to their inane philosophies about why it's okay to be Peter Pan forever and why their compliments should matter even though they've been hollowed of love. They'll offer to take you shopping, to take you on vacation, to give you everything, and you'll realize you'd rather sit alone in a dark room than be in paradise with someone you can't stand to hear talking.
It all just starts to feel a little pointless, because it is. If you're like me, you'll start to rage and cry because you start to crave seeing a real emotion cross their stupid faces. You'll drop men for the most insignificant of flaws because you want them to know what it feels like to lose. You'll open the drawer in the hotel room and throw the Gideon bible at the wall, laughing, hysterical, because you're mad at the God you don't believe in for the path you set yourself on.
And you do have only yourself to blame, you know. You decided to play a game and decided it would be fun if you never allowed yourself to win. You thought you could have everything without giving something in return, so you got nothing.
You wanted to feel without ever falling. And to win the game, you have to fall.
These days I no longer open a thousand doors. I don't often go to parties. I have spent days in the same small room, playing with the child with the face of the one man I could listen to forever, and in the laughter and the sunshine and the diaper changes and cleaning toys off the floor a thousand times, I am finally no longer terrified of eternity.
🏴 Happy 1099th Birthday England 🏴
On 12th July, 927AD, King Æthelstan secured control over the last Viking kingdom of Northumbria and united the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms under one ruler, becoming the first King of a united England.
Terrible day for Norway.
Those discussing Ann Widdecombe on the news keep referring to her "divisive views".
They say little about her being one of the ONLY MPs untainted by the expenses scandal, how she helped her nephew defeat drug addiction + her concern for animal welfare & persecuted Christians.