I had dinner last night with some friends who had read some of my writings and thought that I should post them. I must admit to some trepidation in that I usually write about social or economic policy and cultural issues. I thought I would take a chance and do something different, something out of character, and something that might surprise people. Just consider what follows as a little detour. I will be back next week with more food for thought on the social, economic and cultural front.
I hope you enjoy reading this. It certainly was a pleasure to write.
We paint on this canvas of life. Stroke by stroke the picture unfolds before us and within us. At first, it is hard to tell what the picture will be. Unformed and without depth, we look for meaning in others. As our life develops, we learn that what we seek in others was always within us, yearning to be explored.
At times, we have to paint over mistakes, regrets and transgressions. We emerge from our soul-searching more whole; yet changed. We change the landscape of our lives; we heal. We notice the darker hues of what was and the pastels of what we are becoming.
Harsh, difficult and quick brush strokes; give way to strokes that are delicate, lighter, more refined and patient. We see things that were always there—but in new ways. We forgive ourselves, so that we can forgive others.
The ordinary is transforms from tedium, into the contentment and joy of living in the moment.
Because of the pain and joy of what is, we begin again, understanding that no one completes us--we complete ourselves. We understand that true companionship and love are gifts to be cherished, respected and nurtured.
Like the painting of a great artist, we are no longer fearful of the unknown for we know that we have much more canvas to work with; we have much more to explore on this multicolored journey, where our experiences weave together into abstract textures within each of our souls.
The painting reveals the wonders of this energy called life.