A Grand Force

Without us realizing it fully, we do live the life we intend, for the life we live is a residue of our character which, in spite of ourselves, articulates in the choices we make or disavow. However meticulous one surveys each option, the marks of our spirit will force us to follow some path, be it circuitous, resembling our inner desires. Even in the absence of the trappings we, at one point, perceived to be the appendages of our choices-- be it money, security, fame, prestige--if we taste the fullness of our lives, we will recognize the joy abundant in our activities even in its austere nakedness. You cannot fake interest for long, I remember Ann Bogart saying in some book. It's either there or it isn't. What a concept in a world of compromises. One can substitute luxuries as prizes, but the time, energy-- elemental factors of your existence will have been squandered in its vapid pursuit; the luxuries would have waned like tired, old consolation trophies you store in your back closet for some new novelty to soothe the ache of the absence of that which would have carved your energy into the shape meant for it. From the food you swallow, to the color of your dress: they are like words pouring out your lips announcing your name. All are constituents of how you've developed. You are your final product. Life is constantly giving birth to a new incarnation, even in spite of ourselves.