That is because I ALLOW that self doubt, that they just might be superior.
Well, enough of that...
Often I wonder if exchanging prose will really make much difference? If I can exchange with you, the reader, a little bit of my life with the hope that you will come to an understanding. That you will take away from the baring of my soul a certain lesson that I have set out to teach.
Here are my lessons:
1. Open your eyes and see the life that surrounds you. Understand you are apart of a much larger whole, and everything you do has a trickle effect which leads out into the world. Be aware of this, and act accordingly.
2. Think big, but think small too. Sometimes the smallest things mean the world. For me, it was a school breakfast, a little diary offered as a gift from a stranger, a kind word given by a sister... These little things left impressions on me that is long lasting, and ever forging my path ahead.
3. Every day counts. Make sure you are taking time to find your own peace. This way, the people you effect will not get damaged because YOU feel neglected.
4. People like me go unnoticed every day. We are the abused, the neglected, the impoverished, the hopeful. Open your mind, see the heart of things. Be a hero.
5. Anyone can be a hero. You don't need super strength, speed, heck, you don't need arms or legs. All you need is heart, and the determination to make a change.
6. Take care of what you have, including the earth, you are dependent on allot more than you realize.
7. Trust
Once upon a time, a little girl dreamed that God was a huge creature up in heaven, who was infinatly bigger than earth and all the people on it. When God wanted to see how things were going, he/she would open a book called life, and turn to the page that most concerned him/her.
So convinced was this girl that life was a story. She used to write little stories about her adventures and even draw pictures. This was as much a cry for help, a need to understand the instability of her world. Why is there so much pain and not enough understanding?
So convinced was she that God read her story now and again that she would draw doors in the dirt or on the concrete with chalk. Each door was her size, and each door had a special key hole. Sometimes she drew a key, hoping it would magically appear, other times, she'd hope a key would show up. The doors would lead to a magical world there was no pain, no suffering and she would indeed find the place where she was MEANT to be... because the cruelty of having no home was too much for her to bare.
Sometimes she would sit in the dark, or away somewhere, behind a bush, behind a fence, alone, she would wrap her thin arms around herself and rock back and forth; humming and crying to herself. Somehow there had to be an escape, anyday now, God would open his/her book and see the turmoil in her little soul. When this happened, God would open a door, and she would be free.
Over the years the little girl grew into a teenager and lost her faith.
She'd spend hours with no sleep at night, then sleep all day.
She stopped drawing doors with chalk or dirt...
In these years she made many misstakes, in an effort to find her own way out. Yet, how does one escape what has already been?
Then the day came when the girl, through much trial and error finally understood something very important.
The door she was looking for did not exist within another man or woman. It did not exist on dirt or concrete, or at the other end of a rainbow. The magic she was trying to find was her own, and that door she desperately wanted to open was within herself. So now each day of her life, she continues to seek the door within, each day the door pries a little bit more open. At the other end she knows she will find home, love, and a safe haven. Each day she works on her key... and she will do so, for the rest of her life.
Here's to drawing our doors, and making the keys to opening them.
Love and life to you.
