One thing that hangs, elusive to our cries for it, is just out of reach. "You've had enough," it taunts, knowing our addiction to it will not let us simply accept that fact. Instead, we seek out those who seem to have mastered the art of commanding this tyrant. We pay to hear the secrets they hold and do our best to mimic their paths.
Our own path has it's own plan. "You are yourself, you crave what you already have, yet toss it aside like some insignificant gnat." We all have the same twenty-four hours in a day. But some seem to get so much more out of their twenty four-hours than we do. Such a mystery.
Depression and fear are like sponges. They take away so much and leave us with little. Time gets wasted, worrying about what isn't, while forgetting about what is. Our eyes get cloudy, making it hard to see. What we have are blind ambitions, pulled from our assortment of wants and desires. They can't see to lead the way where we can save time for the important things-the place we long to be, but have handed over our "spare" time to others who squander it away.
They live in us and drive us along our bumpy path. This path happens to parallel the paths of others. Those who needn't answer to the beastly drums of mental illness. Those who have learned the wise ways and captured their time; using it as they wish and deaf to its constants jabbering, countdown; ten...nine...eight...seven...another minute escapes our grasp...six...five...four...two...and soon it's gone...one...zero.
Looking back on that minute, we see the waist left behind by the depressive struggles to harness the time, but it laughs at our attempts. "You've chosen your path, the one with the potholes and boulders to stumble over."
To change paths is to cast aside the demons that hold us tightly in their grasp. "How?" we ask. How do we escape this dark place that has been our home for so long? Baby steps. Hmm...I've been told that about many things and am not so sure I trust it. Babies fall. Their unsteadiness reminds us of our own shortcomings. Darkness deepens. Somewhere in this muck is a way out and on to a light-filled, gentle path where time is our own.
"Smile!" a voice from within the darkness commands. How? Just smile for no reason? "Smile!" the voice is closer and louder than before. The smell of a field of flowers fills this empty place. Memories rise and to our astonishment, we smile. We smile from the memories buried in our deepest, darkest place.
We hear children laughing. It's like they are chasing each other in the park...the park on the sunshiny side, opposite our path. Tears fill our eyes. The laughter is from a birthday party...I think it was my eighth...warm sun...glistened through the trees...birds sang...then, "Happy Birthday to you...happy birthday to you...
So many friends back then and lots of magnificent imaginary kingdoms, and dressing up like a princess. A princess in a long flowing gown. We smile, bigger this time...time...we had more time than we knew what to do with then. What was different? The light!...the light that surrounded us when we played. The light that danced with us when we played on the swings. Laughter! That's why the voice said to smile. Laughter calms the turbulence inside...brings the light into perspective and makes us happy.
The misspellings do not give you credibility. Examples:
ReplyDelete"We pay to here the secrets they hold and do our best to mimic their paths." This should be "hear" not "here".
Another example: "Looking back on that minute, we see the waist left behind "... should be "waste", not "waist"!
I also do not know what the point of this posting is. You are all over the place with it.
Sorry, but as a writer I can tell you to check your spelling and be consistent with your subject matter.
Thank you for pointing out these mistakes. That's what I get for writing something late at night when sleepy. In the future, I'll let it rest overnight and revisit it in the morning, before I post anything.
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