I went to the sea to paint, but forgot my brushes and a container for water. So I decided to draw, but forgot my eraser. I sat staring at the sea, unequipped to carry out any of my plans. I felt the rumbling of a tantrum coming on, the kind where you start to attack your age for being forgetful, or for not buying a fancy art box for organization.
Then the sea whispered, "I am here, you are here. I am here. You are here." And I remembered that no matter what I had, I had everything I needed.
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