Consider this —we’re made of joy— We’re not some sentience waiting to be pleased, judging conditions as propitious or alarming, manipulating circumstances, hoping that we’ll be glad instead of disappointed. Joy is what we are, and the whole grand purpose of our days sings out from here, dances in the rays of All That Is, already perfect, infinite, each moment designated to bring this essence forth as we rejoice in our unbounded worth.
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