Not ironic

“He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realise.”

- Oscar Wilde

I look through the musings I've written down and I find that my mind is fervently passionate about life. I hope one day my life is as passionate as my mind.

All that chains me down is the daring of my imagination.

I talked to someone last night about courage, about strength and determination. It makes me think about the easy things that we so often see as difficult when they are in fact simply exhausting. Exhausting because they are too simple, exhausting because they are monotonous and goes against the true desires of our hearts, not exhausting because they are difficult. Perhaps true difficulty lies in the knowing, in the knowledge of whatever path lies in front of you, in the knowledge of whatever hope guides you and gives you strength. It is exhausting to do what you may not want to do, it is difficult to have the freedom to decide if what you want to do is right...or wrong.

"Thus said the LORD, Stand you in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and you shall find rest for your souls." Jeremiah 6:16