It’s all a passing show. Something, you don’t understand what, happened to find a vantage point in your body and the world is suddenly observed through you. (You think it's you because you learned to color it with your preferences.) Some frames are nicer than others and you want to pause some parts. But the show goes on and you become miserable because your favorite part can’t be watched again. You desperately try to rewind or just stop it for a minute.
Or you want the show to be different. Now you want to rewrite the script for it to please you more. The one who came to observe through you doesn’t care, for her the show is perfect, but you are waiting for your special scene. You desire it with all your heart. When it’s not coming you want to rip the screen apart.
Do it. Rip the screen and watch what’s really going on. Meet the director and get to understand the mechanics of the show.
Or just enjoy the show, wholeheartedly.
Either way is fine. But remember you are not the director. You are so much more and so much less. How, then, could it not be perfect?
Or you want the show to be different. Now you want to rewrite the script for it to please you more. The one who came to observe through you doesn’t care, for her the show is perfect, but you are waiting for your special scene. You desire it with all your heart. When it’s not coming you want to rip the screen apart.
Do it. Rip the screen and watch what’s really going on. Meet the director and get to understand the mechanics of the show.
Or just enjoy the show, wholeheartedly.
Either way is fine. But remember you are not the director. You are so much more and so much less. How, then, could it not be perfect?
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