We truly do not deserve all we have been given. Our minds wonder from one interesting fact to another, diverting our ever-shortening attention span until a diverse network of neural highways crisscross upon our brains…
Our hearts flirt with danger, suspense, tragedy, joy, elation, and pride, leading us on journeys of every emotion. We crave the feeling of living, but how many of us can truly say we have lived? That we have tasted the essence of life and thrived in that space? I know I have failed to find it. I have searched high and low for the inspiration of former days, chasing lost feelings and biding my time until the perfect opportunity presents itself.
Which, of course, it never does.
‘Opportune moments’ are made, not happened upon. We craft our own destiny, even if it’s just in how we choose to dress or to whom we chose to offer a smile instead of a rude gesture. We are the authors of our lives, with ‘choice’ as our pen, and the ‘surroundings’ as our parchment.
I wonder sometimes at my own hubris; how truly full of myself I must be, for seeking to tell all you dear readers how I think you should interpret life. But then I sit back, gazing out into the giant blue canvas of the sky, and ask myself: why not? What harm is there in adding my words to the over-flowing river of humanity’s conscious?
Ok, I may have lost you there, I do apologize. I do need to watch the tone in which I speak. I am no lecturer, no prophet or philosopher; well, not one of any proven worth, that is… But I’d like to think that my utter normality of life might actually offer some candor to our relationship. I’m just like you, navigating life with questions in my heart and only a handful of books on hand to satisfy them.
Perhaps the only thing special about me is my slightly elevated ego, believing that someone out there in the wild blue yonder might like to take a moment to hear what I have to say.
Hello, sojourner of that yawning azure far distance. Be welcome here.
UWC 