I want my life to be one of love. I want to love people. I want to take them outside in the garden and carry them armfuls of flowers. I want to hold their hands and tell them I think they are beautiful. I want to accept their words and recognize their hurt. I want to be with them in the midst of their pain and sorrow.
I don't want to develop group therapies and conduct MMST's. Is social work truly a means to the end that I desire?
How happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And doesn't care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.