Love Thyself = Happiness

No one and nothing can take your joy in life once you realize that your happiness lives within you and only you. The happiness you receive from other people and possessions is only temporary & lasting happiness lives in having a healthy, unconditional love of self.

I haven't met you yet

by Michael Buble

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But somehow I know that it'll all turn out.

And you'll make me work so we can work to work it out.

And I promise you, kid, I'll give so much more than I get.

I just haven't met you yet.

They say all's fair.

In love and war.

But I won't need to fight it.

We'll get it right and, We'll be united.

And I know that we can be so amazing.

And being in your life is gonna change me.

And now I can see every single possibility, mmmm.

And someday I know it'll all turn out.

And I'll work to work it out.

Promise you, kid, I'll give more than I get.

Lessons in Love, by Way of Economics

Practical article on Love by Ben Stein.

"In love, the data is even clearer. Stay with high-quality human beings. And once you find that you are in a junk relationship, sell immediately. Junk situations can look appealing and seductive, but junk is junk. Be wary of it unless you control the market.....You want to have monopoly bonds with your long-term lover. At least most situations work out better this way." Link to Article

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/13/business/13every.html

Pablo Neruda Poem

I love this poem and was recently reminded of how much I love this man's writing.

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda