Here's a classic from several years ago that I keep thinking about.
Some
people do not have to search - they
find their place early in life and rest there, seemingly contented and
resigned.
They
do not seem to ask much of life, sometimes they do not seem to take it
seriously.
Sometimes
I envy them, but often I do not understand them.
And
seldom do they understand me.
I am
one of the searchers. There are, I
believe, millions of us.
We
are not unhappy, but neither are we really content.
We
continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret.
We
continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand.
We
like to walk along the beach - we are drawn by the ocean,
taken
by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty.
We
like forests and mountains, deserts and rivers, and the lonely cities as well.
We
continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand.
Our
sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter.
To
share our sadness with the one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know, unless
it is to share our laughter.
We
searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can
provide.
But
most of all we want to love and be loved.
We
want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering,
nor
prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls.
We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.
We are wanderers, dreamers and lovers, lonely souls
who dare ask of life everything good and beautiful.
We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.
We are wanderers, dreamers and lovers, lonely souls
who dare ask of life everything good and beautiful.
James Kavanaugh
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