I keep telling myself to have gratitude; to expect nothing and bravely accept everything thrown at my way; to endure and obey my destiny, gracefully, and try to dance with it and learn how to follow its steps and its rhythm, rather then struggle and wrestle with it. I keep telling myself not to be rigid, but to be flexible enough to bend with the waves, which come my way at all times, ever-so-repeatedly, one after another. If it so happens that I am broken and shattered in pieces by the current of these waves, then I need to get up — mend, glue, and sew my every piece back together and go again, go, go, go. Do not stop. On the way, I need to let go of what could have or would have been so that I do not rot in negativity. Thus, if I ever am feeling low, dark, and down, I could just open the doors and the windows, and let the fresh air come in — fresh air, such as a new idea, a new adventure, a new belief, a new goal, a new obsession with something beautiful, which I have just discovered and found walking along on the path of my life’s journey.
I keep telling myself that I should always have the traffic lights inside of me on, so that they can direct me as when to go and when to stop. After all, I don’t want any chaos inside, outside, or around me. I keep telling myself that I should always let the police guards residing in me be alert and on guard so that nothing goes wrong. I keep telling myself to always have my moral police, my food police, my work police, and of course, not to forget mentioning, my fashion police watch over me. I keep telling myself to carry my book of rules everywhere with me — my book of rules, which has been written by me, based on my own learned wisdom, which has come to me as a result of my different experiences in my daily life — and use it as a life manual. I keep telling myself to draw the map of my own destiny all by myself, and then just allow the universe to lightly interfere with it and make some minor changes here and there, adding some finishing touches to it, while I am believing that I am, after all, my own savor, my own guardian angel, my own slave, and my own master, all in one.
Tags: Mahvash, Mahvash Mossaed, My Thoughts on It
Posted in Miscellaneous & Opinion |
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