Sunglasses...
March 17th, 2004
I like to wear sunglasses, even on grey days. When I put on my sunglasses, I always feel more comfortable. The world looks strange, especially on a day like today, when the dark gray clouds hang around the horizon, the edge of the sky, yellowish gold and threatening. I feel like the sky let’s me go through and I am humbled. I bow my head low, I ask for nothing but the chance to live and think and grow. Thank you.
I am grateful for memory, the chance to build on experiences, to learn from my mistakes, for the chance to live one day, like today, where I can say that everything is OK, even when I thought I would never see a day like this again. I used to feel my days were limited, that I would never live through things, that I would never feel good again.
My Dad used to say that the reason you don’t want to do anything wrong is that the sunset will never look the same again. In my innocent childlike mind, I felt sadness for all those adults who had done the best to make good decisions but who had failed and had to live with it forever, a life sentence. I felt sad knowing that we are all doomed to mess up sometimes, it can’t be helped. We are human. And fate has something to do with things being messed up. Sometimes the only choices available are only degrees of bad and worse. Sometimes good decisions are not an option.
But today, I am coming through something now and I’m wise enough now to recognise it and appreciate it. I am coming into a new era, coming into my own. I feel like I’m past believing every little thing I have been raised to believe. Things like; when you get older you will feel like you are getting older. I find the opposite to be true. The older I get the younger I feel, the more clear, the more free, the more I know I can be anywhere and do anything. All I have to do is work on being more honest, with myself and others. It’s tough to know what you feel, and it’s tough to say, ‘this is what I need.’ I’m surprised by the reaction, when I do. It’s usually along the lines of, ‘oh, ok, that suits me, also. ‘
I’ve gotten better at taking gifts, at excepting love when it is offered, and not trying to make everything happen on my terms. I read once read that American Indians have have had a policy that by excepting gifts they are agreeing to give something back. I can’t always see what role I will be playing in someones future, what I will find if I walk down a path, when I will find the opportunity to give something back. But in excepting gifts I am committing to giving back, to being here in the future, to opening myself up to possibilities, and facing the fact that I don’t know what the end result will be.
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