I wish at times that I were not the author of my own
suffering, that I could blame it on someone else – some nameless, faceless
demon. Something or someone outside of me. Looking outward for the problem when
the truth is that I am the master of my universe, the captain of my fate.
I am the one writing the script of my life. I cannot control
the thoughts that flit through my head one after another. I can choose which
ones I decide to entertain. While it is true that pain and loss are a part of
life, suffering is not. When I choose to keep worrying or obsessing about
something and working it over and over in my mind, I am suffering for no
reason. When I choose to wallow in self-pity, I am suffering for no reason.
When I choose instead to let go, to accept what is and how I
feel, I am not suffering; I am living.
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