While driving through landscapes that took my breath away, I became aware of the fact that I often feel sorrow when I encounter or experience something beautiful on my own. Why is that?

These moments of beauty are often fleeting, and the anxiety makes me wonder if I am either missing out on something or am at the wrong place in my life, or perhaps both??? It's a physical sensation of rather intense gravity - and of course it's not too much to bear when compared to a million other things - but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I feel somewhat panicked. Like my life is passing me by without me doing whatever it is I'm "supposed" to be doing.

And all the while I'm trying to slow down, keeping it all real, travelling inwards in the hopes of discovering my authentic self. PARADOX!

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