the dance of the ink riddled fingers

mm…

Posted in 52 pickup, heroes of mine, how was your day? by enisea on 26/11/2012

Currently, life is a corridor.  I’ve never felt this sure about being unsure in my life.  There exists a strange contentment about smiling mildly and not exactly knowing what comes next. Because I seemed to have known what I supposedly wanted to do before I knew what I really wanted.  Now I’m learning about what I want, and what’s worth wanting… and I’m wondering what to do about it.

The last three hours have seemed to evade me, ever since I told time that it wouldn’t rule me. So, as though to provoke me to panic, it flew past and still I am here, defying it… I think.  What if I told you time was brittle?  That if you wanted, you could make sure you always had enough of it by defying the conventions of understanding it.  Sort of like always having enough money because you work, get paid, and spend your money well, but never looking at your bank balance and therefore never wondering if you could have more – because you don’t need more, you’ve just heard that if you had more you could do more with it – which is true and not true at the same time. Because if you had more money, you mightn’t do more with it than living a good life, because a good life is more than having as much money as you want.  There are many, aren’t there, who live poorer lives because they’ve overvalued the quantity and undervalued their quality.

Haha, yes – really simple thoughts today. I feel like a 1990 computer operating system – as though my thoughts really couldn’t process any faster than primitive and very young understandings.  I think today I’ve been repulsed by complexity and I desire simplicity.  Why isn’t life as simple as having enough and loving abundantly? Haha, what if it is that simple and we’ve all been too stupid to realise that?  What if my life isn’t about setting me up and having what I want?

I know a woman who’s life is not hers.  She has no life other than her four recent foster children.  She struggles and she struggles, but boy does she love! She is not perfect, and she probably feels rather lonely and/or overwhelmed frequently.  She has no particular talents to build her pride up against, and you wouldn’t find her interested in anything regarding exterior beauty and she is bald.  But she loves. She is tired and still, she loves.  Oh, when she talks about her children – there is a little frustration, there is the pain that she feels for them, but there is so much love.  I don’t know another, to be very honest with you, who has loved at such a capacity as her – that I know of, personally.  Her life has translated into making the lives of four children whom she did not birth, into beautiful lives.   And somehow, that humility of hers scares me – because it seems hard, really hard.  I sort of care about myself- probably more than I should.

To pray for others more than myself.  To care about others more than myself.  To cheer for their successes rather than promote my own.  To protect others as much as I protect myself.  To love as love is defined.

Haha, I wonder, when our lives here are finishing, if the only question we will be asked is “So, in your 87 years of life, did you love properly?”

What if the greatest success of life was ensuring that you helped as many as you could ‘love properly’. Not: build your dream home, having 2.4 children, own 2 cars, pay off your mortgage, own every apple product, and have enough to pay for your children’s education.

Haha, I know, mid-midlife crisis. I won’t lie, the idea of severing myself from electronic technology and trekking through a foreign wilderness sounds rather appealing right now.

This whole: I DON’T UNDERSTAND MY LIFE and WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO (got to do with it?) has hazed my morning.

Yes, I feel very much like the only way to justify life today would be to be crazy: shout, sing, smile like a maniac, kiss my family, celebrate life and help an old lady to cross the road… I really shouldn’t let myself blog on these sorts of mornings – it makes my insanity rather public, though it’s strangely pleasurable not being cool, calm and well written.

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