-Henry David Thoreau
|No bones in this pic. But. Look. At. This. Face.|
I found this quote tonight while looking for another quote and cannot get it out of my mind. Anyone who has ever been lucky enough to find what they love to do knows what Thoreau speaks of. When you love something, really love doing something, it gets under your skin. You go to sleep thinking about how you did it that day, you wake up with an idea about how to do it better. You ponder it while you are doing your nine-to-five grind, and think about it as you absentmindedly burn the toast.
Whether it's singing or writing, building lego sculptures or photography, it is your bone. You gnaw at it, bury it, dig it back up, sniff it, bury it again, roll around thinking about it, unearth it yet one more time, and gnaw a little more.
I'm lucky. I found my bone. I kid that it is red wine or Netflix, but nope. I obsess over it, worry it like a nervous ninny as I bury it and dig it up daily.
We should all be so lucky, right?
Peace and love and knowing your own bone and finding your bliss, buttercups. XO