Pinch blogger

I sat down to write a meaningful blog entry...but I couldn't flesh out any idea that I had. So I'm taking something off Katie's blog that I really liked. Per her own post...this is not her creation. It was written my Horace Bushnell. I'm still combing over it looking for the nuggets of meaning I know lie within.

On a cold distant night
he stood outside glaring at the sky.

To the left were clouds,
hanging over his head and giving him a simple reminder
that life was far from perfect.

To the right was a clear path, a small glimpse of hope
that someday, somehow, he would muster up the energy
to finally allow himself to heal.

In an imperfect world where drama is the main attraction
there is only so much the soul can take.
We tell ourselves constantly that we are “tired” of the drama.
We continue to believe that the only way possible is to start all over.

Well at least he knew better.

Back in the day, drama was a word that had become an everyday part of his life.
His life had been filled with shambles
and his motivation fueled through bad life experiences.

He was out to please and prove.
He wanted them to know.
To see him as a person who not only mattered but deserved
to be worshiped in some way, shape, or form.

He knew exactly how he felt on the inside
and it was fear that kept him from displaying those deep emotions.
Being weak to him meant asking for help and that was simply not an option.

Because we can never quickly
realize how dramatic our lives can be,
we continue to create situationsthat become unhealthy and unloving.
We tell ourselves that being
angry, upset, or even jealous are normal
everyday feelings for the many moments in our lives.

We want to believe that we are always right
and that there is simply nothing wrong
and even if there were a problem,
we would much rather deal with ourselves.

We keep dramatic people in our lives.
People who serve little to no purpose but are always there
to make sure we fall hard without helping us get up.
We keep them there because it serves as a reminder.
We would much rather see someone else struggle
than to just admit our own defeats.

He looked over to the left, gazing at the sky,
remembering how those clouds had been formed.
There had been moments of self doubt along with
the false realization that life did not involve people.

As he looked over to the right
he began to see hope.
Hope for a better future.
Hope for remembering never to doubt himself again.

He knew that this process was far from over

oh yes he had been here before... patiently waiting...
The more difficulties one has to encounter, within and without, the more significant and the higher in inspiration his life will be.