What if we dieted because we wanted to get healthier?
What if we wrote because it was our release?
What if we did gave without wanting back?
What if we expected nothing but hoped for everything?
Maybe, in letting go of results, we actually gain everything in return. We do things because we love to, not, because we feel like we should.
What if we were transformed by the process rather than the results? Maybe then, our worth would not be defined by our outputs, but rather, by the process of inputs. Quite possibly, our outputs might then be something of love, hope, and grace.
Something to chew on, I’m trying to let go.