Anger is a cruel, boring slavemaster; action a thrilling, infinite hero.
Why be petty when I can be powerful? Grimace when I can be graceful? Beauty is inside.
Each day is the best of my life and may be my last.
I’m not guilting myself over a bucket list. No tidying up or giving back while there’s still time.
My bucket overflows and Death won’t ask if my bed was made or demand a count of my charities. Death don’t care.
Yeah, a radical mindset for a onetime priesthood aspirant, who genuflected and prostrated to a vision of death on the cross.
Jesus finally got through to me despite superstitious kundalini: My good mind and soul always has been enough.
A well-lived life means laughing at myself and with others. If eternity has any requirements—which it doesn’t—laughter is prime.
Ha ha ha! Last words.