“IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU”……

By Juliana Wathen in motivational, spiritual on
4 comments


You’re right……… It’s not about me…..it’s about moments and getting through to the next one.

AND THIS TOO SHALL PASS

Life is a lesson….I hate home work.

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Published by Juliana Wathen

Writer, singer, artist, performer living in Houston, Texas. By day I work as an Event Producer. By night am I whatever I choose to be for the evening. Sometimes a homebody, sometimes a social butterfly.

4 comments on ““IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU”……”

  1. Homework causes brain damage… Just saying! I see from facebook and your blog that you have so much going on and just wanted you to know that some crazy Conroe alumni in Georgia is thinking about you.

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  3. Bear with me here while I get to the point:

    I have this new smart phone that’s way smarter than me. It’s always doing things I didn’t ask it to do for reasons I don’t understand. So anyway, it’s Saturday, and I’m at my mom’s house in East Hooterville where there’s no internet, so I grab my phone to check my email. The little green message light is flashing at me — smugly, because it know it knows something that I don’t know. I turn on the home screen expecting to see the email icon in the toolbar, but it’s not there. No email. There is, however, a long row of the little arrows that pop up when you download an attachment. Five attachments, no email. I ask the phone my standard question: “WTF?” It pretends to try not to smirk and says nothing. I tap the first arrow. The screen goes black for an instant, then glows orange: IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. No other text, no email address, no name. I tap the second arrow: IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. Third, fourth, fifth … all the same. Just that cryptic, anonymous, head-slap of a message. I did not discover the source of that message until I read your post on Monday.

    I still don’t have a clue as to how that image came to be downloaded on my phone without the email, and frankly, it kinda freaks me out. I realize that thinking this is somewhat counter to the meaning of the message, but I have to believe the universe was trying to tell me something. At this point, I have no idea what the “it” is that’s not about me, but I hope I know it when I see it; I really don’t want to have to be told twice.
    M

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