Here at the center, I don’t really know that I’m thinking such things, but all of my thoughts are that my thoughts are the only ones that really count.
I am beginning and end. I am gravity. My marvelous, magnetic personality draws in everyone like invisible magic.
Compassion, forgiveness. I lose sight of them. Don’t need them. When things go wrong it’s really a problem of folks who need sorting out. When I show them the right point of view, they understand how wonderfully everything works. It’s amazing how it never crosses my mind that another universe might have another center.
Until, slam, bam, whoosh, uh-oh, what? Someone misinterpreted something I said. Someone called me a fool, and I was in some way. I missed something wonderful someone did. My universe was nothing but the legend of me in my head. I was wrapped up, rolled up, and totally upside down, thinking my life, my problems, my details were what the universe is about. When it came to folks who needed sorting, I was the one. It’s amazing how it never crossed my mind that the universe might not agree with my every little thought.
It might be nice, for a moment, to imagine that I might be what NASA calls a glitzy, glamorous galaxy.
It’s nicer to care about other people
−me strauss Letting me be