It's Just a Thought

Sitting alone, she watched as night reluctantly made room for the presence of morning. She looked out the window, and stared at the images brought to light only in darkness. Hopes, dreams and random fears appeared before her eyes. The same visions seen early in life, remain. The passing days intensify that which has always been, and will always be.

The familiarity of the fears, is unsettling. So often are they seen mingled within the beautiful colors and shapes of one’s dreams.

Gliding her chair forward, she rests her elbows on her desk and places her palms together. Her face gently rests against her hands as she blinks slowly. One by one she greets the many thoughts walking through her mind. Knowing each one carries a purpose, she gives each one its due.

Longing to tell the story of the woman that lives within her mind, she shifts her thoughts onto all that needs to be done to bring to light the story that’s already been told.

Like brush strokes painted onto a damp canvas, she works to bring countless images to life within the mind of those reading her words. She paints with darkness, she paints with light. She paints the story of life, and the inevitable way it twists and turns, invariably infusing so many of us with unexpected pain. And yet without pain, one would never know the depth of joy, the resurrecting thrill of life taking a turn for the better, the feeling of relief after unfathomable pressure.

Like drones, so many walk through life never having lived. But for some, we absorb life and the richness it offers: deep pain and climactic happiness. It is an important contemplation: how one is living life. Are they living with robotic movements, or are they like a tree that not only absorbs the warm sunlight from above but also that which lies deep beneath it. And like the tree, having amply received, do they give back to the world around it. Everything in nature, gives back from which it takes. Humans are the only ones that, all too often, omit this vital life process.

Watching the darkness gracefully exit, making ample room for daylight to stand center stage, she contemplates her purpose. This is the season for giving, or so she’s been told. What would the world be like if, every day, we were to give as much as we received.

Sane