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When encountering negativity, I find I still haven't mastered yet the task of thinking with a disciplined mind. Being capable of acknowledging this fact surely must be a small step towards so, though.

I wonder if a person such as myself, whose moral and social standards are self-set, has the right to point fingers and say an errand gone wrong is the fault of somebody else. Perhaps I don't; perhaps for such people, there is no such thing as "fault," but simply what is.

I've spent most of this week under a constant state of needless pressure that, I realize now, was not created at the fault of those around me, but rather, by my own hands. No fault can be placed upon others for my failure to breathe in deeply and accept that not all hard work will reap the benefits we seek, that not all things we wish to attain are attainable, and that not always our plans can be followed through to the end. This atypical air of impatience I've only just noticed I've had recently for everything, for everyone, I now believe has been nothing more than my ego's futile attempts to sustain this ignis fatuus of control and stability.. that and my lengthy absence from blogging, my lack of reflective thinking.

The loss of my hold on the patience I usually have at hand, as well as that frumpiness I'm not used to suppressing is, to me, just another demonstration, another reminder, of the impermanence of all things: things I forgot needed constant attention, and hopefully will handle better in the future.

Oh, the things one realizes when cooking rice in the kitchen.
I've still yet to find that peace with myself,
but at least, I think, I've found a tiny bit of it.