It occurs to me that I spend time chasing after things that are already mine.
I look for measurements of my popularity, but I already know that I am loved.
I work to prove my value, but my worth has always been intact.
I seek joy in habits that don’t bring me joy, yet I knew how to have it long ago, dancing on the lawn as a child.
Joy comes after effort, but I don’t need to work so hard to find things that I am already carrying in my pocket. I no longer dance spontaneously on the front lawn, but the essential formula remains: Joy comes from just letting go.
