Still Wishing for the Wisdom of Yoda

I'm probably pretty selfish. In fact, this whole blog is selfish. Talking about myself, my needs, my wants and my dreams. All about me. I have a need to fill my life with lots of rich experiences, and I get incalculable joy from small moments. I revel in things like hiking on a gorgeous day and stopping suddenly to breath deep some pungent mountain laurel that I stumbled across, or getting really, really dirty gardening or doing something outside and then having the best shower ever, thoroughly enjoying the clean aftermath with cozy clothes on and a glass of wine in hand. I need these experiential, sensual events, and I need to share them with people I love. The more often I can get them the better. And I want people to do them with.

Maybe that makes me selfish. I don't know. It can't be fair to expect people to enjoy what I enjoy or want what I want. But is it also fair to sacrifice those things myself? At what point is a person selfish, and at what point are they simply doing what's right for them so they can be happier and better for the people around them? At what point does sacrifice move from being a noble thing to something negative and damaging in the long-term?

I wish Yoda lived next door. He probably knows.