A Simple Idea

The simple idea that we are complete in a way we do not comprehend…
When the shell cracks and I am aware of not being perfect, knowing deeply I cannot be, cannot fight to pretend to be anymore. Fully myself, no one, an empty whisper through the hollow crust of everything. Flesh, blood, lymph, excretions. I am here. That is enough, and it is nothing. I am bereft. I have accomplished nothing, and never can, and in this, I am absolutely free.

~ inspired by an adorable, little read -- Don Miguel Ruiz' The Four Agreements