On a recent vacation, I stood in awe while watching a man do a hand stand on top of five stacked wooden chairs. What we sometimes take for granted while being entertained is the time and effort behind each performance. Did Beethoven come out of the womb playing a symphony? Of course not. Did the brave balancer succeed on his first attempt? I highly doubt it.
Remember this. One of life’s treasures is the ability to start over. A setback does not define you.
You read a great book because the author didn’t quit.
You danced to your favorite song because the artist didn’t quit.
You watched your favorite team win because the athlete didn’t quit.
The world is a better place because you didn’t quit.
This summer began with my feet dangling from a tail gate counting head nods and peace signs. Let me set the record straight about us Deadheads. Some enhance. Some escape. Some do both. Now, let me set the record straight about everyone. Differences in choices or lifestyles are not reasons to be a jerk.
In junior high I was a member of the show choir. I did not try out for personal growth or to showcase a talent. I just wanted to be a part of something. You see, once upon a time acceptance was connected to adequacy. Once upon a time I allowed someone else to decide if I could sing and dance with others.
Oh, how time uncovers treasures in the form of mature perception and truth. Let me set the record straight about the self I’ve never understood more clearly. Today, the person accepting is me. I accept my words, my actions and my imperfections. I accept that some of my traits are a condition…not a personality. I accept the fact that not everyone gets it.
And now I dance on grass and not a stage. My audition requires nothing but a good mood and the choreography is easy…head nods and peace signs.
Dance with me, friends. YOU are a treasure!
Bitter sweet is an over used phrase that describes a moment a feeling sad and happy at the same time. This is double the work for the over thinker. I become living proof every time a teardrop follows dead flowers into the garbage can. And every time the predictable post vacation sadness kicks in.
I thought that clarity would stop the head spins. But this empty room’s memories of little heads in my lap are not fun to be with. In a minute though, when I stretch my legs and dominate the remote, the solitude won’t feel so bad. If walls could talk, I would be in the middle of a never ending dispute. One like peace while the other misses chaos. One likes cleanliness while the other misses fingerprints.
Like anything that is not good for you, unwanted thoughts are a bad habit. You know you shouldn’t do it, but you still do. Time has made it a part of you. And while you know you have a choice to stop, a twisted comfort doesn’t let you.
If you are afraid of change, you are not alone. Choices become repetitive when we realize that we like how they make us feel. In my case that’s vanilla over chocolate…drama over comedy…sweatpants over skirts. In my case it’s pinching a piece of skin to stop tears with a dam called pain. It’s better than being falsely accused of being unstable or under the influence.
In my case it’s working every single day on creating new and better habits. It’s praying for karma over plotting revenge. It’s dismissing over dwelling. It’s appreciating more. I asked a question in my very first post and I ask it again. Will you go treasure hunting with me? You don’t need a shovel, just a mirror.
YOU are a treasure!