Being...

I am always most happy when I take my hands off of the wheel of life; when I stop trying to guide it in the direction of my choice. I don't know why I continue such foolery. Such a time waste. I am not even worthy of being defined as a speck in the universe, for not even is our solar system, yet I try to guide it. Sort of like pottery. I don't have the talent yet I stick my hands in the material trying to will a palace and instead all I get is muck. When, on the other hand, I remove my hands a certain freeness comes over me. I am free. Slowly, however, I tend to inch my hands forward as if to say, "This looks good, now if only I change this...", and you get the picture. Life is crazy and I'm crazy. Or maybe life just is and I alone am crazy...well, not me alonce, for, I am sure, I have lots of company. Part of the human fallacy, to be sure.