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You can read a book. Or ten. Or more. And wait. Wait until you forget what you are waiting for, and go on waiting, because your excuses make perfect sense.
You can do what your friends do. What everybody else does. And, in the meantime, wait for change, avoiding it at all costs, because uniformity is comfortable.
You can cry and fret, regret and hate, crippled in misery. And wait. Wait for even more suffering and bitter yearning, because you can’t even hope anymore.
Also, you can think about… you, apologize for neglecting yourself, forgive yourself, remember what makes you happy – truly, deeply, lastingly happy –, think of what you’d need to achieve that state of bliss, and move on, getting something done in that direction. And something more. Every little thing at a time. At your own pace. Before you know it, a miracle happens – you did it yourself! And another one. And others more. Because miracles are what happens when you’re busy being your best self, your more active, less complacent self.
There’s no need to depend on other people or “forces” to deliver miracles at your door, when you’re able to produce your own. Salvation doesn’t happen, you practice it. Daily.
