I used to believe in more than myself and more than this world. I would think of my mother and imagine that she had ascended into another existence. I grew to hate my existence. But there were times when I looked upon the beautiful night and it took my breath away. And in those moments, I knew that this was a blessing. To even breathe. And I truly believed in the human ability to become more like the dusk and dawn. So quiet. So true.
I had forgotten the spirituality of letting everything go and simply let myself just exist.
To look at the sky and mountains and stars is a blessing.
To feel the rain and wind and dirt on your feet is a joy.
To taste the tears on your face and the loves of this world is a luxury.