Welcome to last of my posts of the season (obviously until I am back with a bang) Yes third year in a row now, its gonna be a six months devoted to books, study modules, handwritten notes bla bla bla & hibernating period for readers who munch my little blog in their free time.
All I want for is a life under control. A time and a place where all around me is calm, where even the very air around me vibrates with harmonious peace. Where, as far as my eyes can see, as far as my mind can reach, no fires rage out of control for me to fight back. No storms loom on the distant horizon, silently brewing, waiting to catch me unaware and send my life tumbling and twisting along, often back along the very paths I’ve already fought to forge at least once before, while lightning strikes at my feet like a viper ready for a tasty meal. No worry, no crisis, no trouble rumbling to stir up volcanoes long ago silenced.
Ahhh. The infamous “perfect” moment in time when everything is exactly right. That ever elusive moment I so desperately seek, so sure that once I find it all will be forever wonderful. I long for it, yearning from the bottom of my heart to the very depths of my soul. And still it manages to slip away from me, sliding from my grasp like water. The closer I get, the further it seems to go, impishly dancing farther away while staying just enough in view to taunt me with the possibilities and then evaporating without warning like a mirage of a desert oasis. And so it goes, over and over, a testament to both my foolishness and my determination.
What I have realized is that, even if I find it, if I somehow manage to capture that perfect shining moment of absolute rightness, it will only be just that–a moment. As precious and amazing as it is rare, but altogether fleeting, usually escaping me again before I even fully realize what I have in my hands. As quick as I find it, off it flits again to dance through the air, floating off into the distance, becoming only a moment that has now passed, leaving me still holding the pieces of an altogether imperfect existence.
In the end, that collection of imperfect, flawed moments is the heart and soul of my story, the sheer essence of my life well-lived. It is not perfect and, often, it is not even pretty. Mixed in with beauty and joy is plenty of pain, heartache and anger. Yet from these moments, flawed though they may be, grow my hope, my faith and my love, grows the chance to create a life that is perfectly mine. I now know that best life is not one which is perfect but the one that takes the imperfection around and chooses to polish it until it shines like the brightest of stars glowing in the night sky and then cherish it for what it is–a treasure of flawless imperfection as unique and rare as me.
A Staunch Believer 