How often I feel like a fish trapped in a bowl, a prisoner to something called life. To an outsider this sounds depressing and at times I suppose it is. But it’s all I’ve ever known. Like a 3-legged dog, I’ve only ever known hopping. Fifty-two years of hopping proves one thing: all that ‘you’ and ‘I’ are is the sum total of mental programming we received. I hop while you may glide and another may strut and still another crawls.…
Where the Mind Goes, So Goes I
May 22, 2015