Confession

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I can’t stop reading my horoscope.

It has never predicted anything about my life. I don’t even match the profile of a Libra. Yet I continue seek it out, sift through its words, and ponder its meaning or lack thereof.

The horoscope is my wordy equivalent of physically craning my neck to see the future. It’s a lack of faith that life will occur just as it should… that I’m in exactly the right place and time, doing exactly what I need to be doing. It’s a lack a gratitude for the present.

Sometimes it’s difficult to just be… to surrender.

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