.Stubborn like glitter

I think six is the best age. You’re not 9, you don’t have to impress your friends, and you’re not four, you don’t have to impress adults. Growing up is knowing you can be happy and bitter at the same time. Happy with yourself, what you know, where you’re going. A proper lesson is to not get bogged down if you don’t reach a certain goal as you had planned it. That will happen a LOT. Depending upon the synchronicity of linking happiness to the accomplishment of goals tends to backfire. Having goals is like riding a bicycle. You’ve got to have a momentum. Working towards those goals is like pedaling. You do it continuously and consciously, but after a point in time, it translates to an involuntary action. The happiness experienced is parallel to this action. You aren’t happy that you’re pedaling, you’re happy that you’re moving. The distance travelled, the awareness of the wind and nature and joyful rush from the sights and sounds of life – are just byproducts of your effort. Does that make sense? If you apply everything that you’ve ever believed in or hoped to believe in and it falls over of course you question every microstep you’ve taken. But you also get to adopt or discard absolutely new theories and opinions.