What Does It Mean To Be Selful?

MattysFlicks

Understanding one’s self is a task that many of us take on for our entire lives. We search and search in order to uncover who we are. We listen to all sorts of advice telling us how we should be, we read all kinds of books telling us how to behave. We look for answers to the questions that haunt us most. What do I stand for? What am I doing? Who will I be?

Truth is, we do not have to work hard at discovering our selves, for who we are at this very moment is who we are. Every thought that comes into our mind is actively defining our self; every action that we decide to take molds what we stand for. We are the sum of every experience that we’ve ever had; not just of what happened, but of how we have let it affect us.

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It’s Only A Matter Of Time Until Nature Becomes My Home

https://www.flickr.com/photos/25172838@N05/9455296487/in/photostream/Ahh the beauty of it all. The luscious moss, dripping off the sides of the trees. The trees themselves, grandiose and strong. The smell is overwhelming, the essence of freedom and life that it gives off.

One deep breathe, and you forget it all. One deep breathe and you become it all.

I continue my stroll, feeling the grass drape itself over my toes. The softness, the liveliness. It shouts green, it whispers life.

“Tell me all your secrets, tell me where you came from”

I kneel down, rub my hands through it. It embraces everything it touches. It continues to call my name, and I am powerless to its beauty. I lay down. Let it speak to me. It holds me as the rays of the sun creep through the trees. They creep closer, advancing forward in silence, bringing its warmth along for the ride. It starts with the toes, climbs up through the legs, embraces my torso, massages my arms, and covers my face. Tingles run down my skin as my body embraces what gives it life. I close my eyes, let the beauty sink in.

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Sometimes I Forget That I’m Alive

17099096b7e9b0b36a75a7b238aca66b_largeI get caught up thinking about other’s thoughts. It’s not about what others think about me, just what they’re thinking in general. Thinking amazes me. Every body is doing it, yet everyone does so differently. The problem is that it reaches a point of distraction. I get caught up thinking about the world that I lose my sense of placement. I forget that I am currently what exists. I am alive; a part of the present and everything in it, capable of interacting with any body and experiencing what is out there. The trees are amazing, the sun is incredible, and all that surrounds me is beautiful.

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Picking a Bone With Panhandlers

Beggar_with_a_Lyra,_by_Svishchev-Paola_1900s

I believe my scent attracts panhandlers. I don’t know what it is, but maybe my Old Spice deodorant gives them the sense that i’m overflowing with money. Truth is, i’m not. I don’t really mind people coming up to me and asking for money, because I see this as a chance to get to know somebody new and have a nice conversation. Apparently most of them don’t seem to see it that way.

Let me tell you about my most recent encounter:

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