The Cup - Part 3
We have two lives. The second begins when we realise we only have one.
As we lead up to the new year, I’ve been thinking about what the Japanese say about beautifully imperfect pottery. But guess what? I still want a new cup.
Because the Greeks implore that we first know ourselves.
We can try on a philosophy, like a piece of clothing. Does it fit? Does it keep me warm? Does it look nice and not do anything to protect me? Is it too small, not giving me space for growth?
As much as I look for grey in my life, rightly or wrongly, I am a black and white person. And I’m finally OK with that.
If I like you, I will meet you. If not, I won’t. If I don’t like you, I will still be kind, because that is a reflection of who I am not who I might perceive you to be.
But things are clear cut for me. It either works or it doesn’t. That is the only criteria.
And with that the cloud of confusion that was threatening to suffocate me, lifts - and easily.
I know what to do now, which way to move.
I just need to follow my bliss.