If I'm bothered, I've missed something.
I've missed it.
God's not missed it.
The programme's not missed it.
The programme's not failed.
God's not failed.
God's not working slowly.
The programme's not working slowly.
I've held on to an old idea because I like it.
When I find myself complaining of my symptom, the symptom gets the attention.
But the symptom is not the cause.
The cause is the prize:
Some selfish attachment.
Unhappiness is always selfishness, attachment, separation.
I get to pick.
Do I want to be happy, or do I want to be me?