About Me

More often than not, it isn't.

If I could stop trying to make the world go there, I could be happy.

When the conversation stops as I enter a room, they were probably talking about something else. When my neighbor doesn't have time to greet me and be polite, it's probably not my fault. She might have something else on her mind. When my husband doesn't ask about my day, he might have worries of his own. When my friend doesn't call on my birthday, it might just be that her life, her children, her job, her parents, or her finances pushed that central date in the history of the world out of her mind. 

 When my child makes a bad choice, my investments tank, my mother dies, or my dog runs away, that is not about me, either, and if I could get past my self-centeredness, I might be able to get past these things a little faster. 

I may not be all that important, but I'm all I ever think about. That in itself is unfortunate, because it really and truly isn't always about me. 

When I forget about me, I become powerful beyond words, gain the ability to move mountains with my faith, have a direct connection with God, Who, should He forget about me for even an instant, would cause me to cease to exist. When I forget about me and care about you, I become not only free, but free to be happy.

Pax vobiscum.