The content of our life, the blood we had to shed and the tears of joy or sadness – this is the story. Who we have been, who we will be, and who we are… right now. (dl)
It is just being honest inside and taking a few chances, but not making our stuff stupidly dramatic and hopelessly romantic – keep it real.
Over the years our story morphs, or might even disappear, but the one thing that will always remain is the change it had in us, to us, and with us. And this change (big or small) whether we believe in it (or not) is nothing short of spiritual alchemy – Yes, it happens and we can’t do a thing about it – but acceptance is a cool thing to put in our pocket.
It is a playground of experiences maxed out, stretched out, that put us out-of- mind because in all this mental hopscotch it seems like we are the only ones suffering –
Heads up sunshine, we are not.
Yes, it is just a story.
So when we grab a hold of our world gone mad, shake it to the core, little diamonds begin to tumble to the ground and this is where we get to pick them up and either use them to cut glass, or to wear them – it’s a choice.
And after it is all said in done, will the story matter? That is one more piece of the mysterious puzzlement of our purpose – personal, artistic and alive. We need to be open to the possibility that it didn’t matter at all, except in that one tiny moment of our life, and life goes on.
But when we look in the mirror do we see the years of a worn torn vision caressing an image we hold in our head, or do we ignore it? Do we play safe for the sake of our sanity? Color the past or make it black and white?
It is so very hard to look deeply into the eyes of a time come and gone (with head our held high) and accept some of our decisions were probably not the best. But there were times when all we wanted was a bigger truth and we paid for it dearly. So we replay the situation over and over and ask where it was that we went awry.
Enter the endless circle. When we fall into that habitual redundancy, we get a bit sour about it all (but it is of our own doing) because of the double-edged sword – damned if we do, damned if we don’t. In other words, the story needs high emotion to sustain interest.
The intensity of retelling our “stuff” can ignite a flame that should have been put out long ago or it can be cathartic – again, we have many choices, so we must pick our inner and outer audience wisely.
The art of the tale is how it is told. Did we learn, did we share it with wisdom or beat it to death in drama and bitterness? If it holds no credence anymore perhaps it should be released from the repertoire and start a different conversation.
But before we can say, “The end” we need to be completely honest with our heart. If it doesn’t hurt anymore when begin to speak about it – put it bed. It is done. If it a twinge still appears in our gut, or something makes us tingle in a not so good way, there is more to learn, more to know, more to grow.
With any luck at all we find serenity - a solemn serenity that we all have to face sooner or later. It can be cold and brutal but it is (in my mind) the best form of enlightenment out there.
Our story is in fact, where we meet our self. Extend your hand gratefully and say, Hello… (dl)