A Reminder Of Bliss

Today I was reminded of peace, and hope, and bliss. When I was younger, I used to pick out a book from my mother’s bookshelf called The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. The poetry and the beauty mesmerised me even when I was young. I would pick it up and read it every so often. I never really thought about how much it may have shaped my thinking, but today I was reminded that it must have. My mother called me a few months ago and we were talking about books and I asked her if she remembered that book, she did, and in fact it is still in her current collection. I asked her for it, but it actually has more of a family tie to my brother so I of course wouldn’t take it.

However today, on my birthday, and at the end of a week of focus of trying to understand ego and pride and loss and love and pain, that book arrived as a gift from my mother. My spirits were immediately lifted. I took the book right out into the sunshine and joyfully read it. Joyfully. It’s short, and beautiful, and reminded me of how I really am and what I really believe and it helped me forget a lot of torment and pain. Reading it elevated my spirit and freed my ego to forgive and allowed my pride to let go and allow me (at the risk of sounding too “sensitive”) to love. I wished I could share that same feeling with others, and one person in particular.

I have been reminded of how beautiful the world is, and have escaped a lot of my own ego and pride that trapped me and darkened my hope and happiness.

Fuck yeah. Happy fucking birthday.

Now I’m off to the pub.