Yearning

Sometimes I think we humans yearn to the exclusion of all else. Instead of living, we yearn for the next thing. Instead of noticing, or resting, or dwelling in the embers of our sometimes fiery hearts, we yearn. We could imagine worlds of pleasure made from the very stones beneath our trudging feet. But no. We yearn for what we don't have. Can't have, even, because . . . because life.

 

To yearn is not a sin or a fault. But to the extent that such yearning prohibits us from being in our life, it is a waste.

 

 

 

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