That emotional or intellectual lightening bolt arrives—bam!—on its own  schedule. Nothing can rush it, because it’s born of years of experience and  introspection, if not a nudge from the heavens. But what if we had more faith in smaller, everyday eurekas? These  ordinary-extraordinary moments are so much easier spot or even trigger, no beam  of light or harp music needed.  There are a few epiphanies that are lying around my life, ready for me to grasp.

I’ve agonized about finding my big, life-changing passion.  But those arenas where I am slightly compulsive or even a little kooky is  right where I’ve already found  passion. It may produce income—or may  not.

This is not the test of whether I ought to be doing it. I can’t help but go  further, so much further, than anybody else that  I may just stumble into my niche of genius—or maybe just plain old fulfillment.

The gateway to this realization is, of course, admitting your own free-flying,  freaky weirdness. Such as (and this not me, of course—I would never, ever get  obsessive about this) perfecting the meatball (but if you do enjoy this  kind of thing to extreme this is fulfilling).

There are mysteries  that reminds us there are still things out there in the universe to  contemplate and spend our lives chasing.  Being a human is challenging, but there are distinct benefits. We can make  impossibilities possible with only syrup and dye (the snow cone)…someone came up with that you know.

The best time to understand how you really feel about X is during those moments  when you’re telling yourself to change yourself to suit your  circumstances, instead of telling yourself to change your circumstances.

Right then, something will feel so deeply and funkily wrong that  admitting “You know what? This isn’t love” is almost always a relief. What may  result, hopefully, is another revelation: Not-quite-love, like love, is just an  emotion—one you’re perfectly allowed to have, without doing anything to fix,  dull or deny it. In an emotionally perfect universe, we’d need nothing other than ourselves to  feel safe and whole. Unfortunately, we live someplace else.   It will come, that moment in which you’ll feel the first, familiar wobble of  anxiety or dread, but instead of giving yourself a pep talk or forcing yourself  to blunder through the situation, you’ll realize there is one if not logical, at  least entirely legal thing that will make you feel better. Take it.

No matter what the situation or condition, the only realistic way to measure its  length is “for a while.” Something happens and then unhappens. You will be glad  it’s over, or not glad (or not glad at all).

The moment it ends,  however, is when it’s most obvious that it—like everything good and  god-awful—lasted not forever, but “for a while,” which is the both exact and immeasurable timeframe  you need to decide what to make of its influence on your life, especially with  regard to all the other a whiles to come.












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