There are some things in life that ought not be labeled, defined, or poorly explained through an attempt at explanation. Were you to describe the color red to a blind man, you’d find yourself lacking for words and ways to describe its…essence. Red. Why do we feel it is possible to label, define, and restrict access to the Creator of the universe?
Perhaps I’m the eternal optimist, always hoping things will be much better than they actually turn out to be. A business partner of mine used to tell me “every pessimist is a former, failed optimist.”
There are some things I have experiences that have been truly wonderful and my opinion of them will never, ever change. The sun setting on a country backdrop in Ohio, a beautiful beach in California, the stars in the night sky. The list could continue. I have seen these things and was left with an internal feeling that cannot be described.
Other things, I have not experiences as I would have liked. And cannot say that the feeling I’ve been left with was a pleasant one. A chase at love ended heartlessly, beliefs in a mentor shattered by reality, and dream after dream broken to pieces as each year has gone by.
For years, I’ve believed in things too big to describe. I’ve thought it possible to chase dreams. You can’t chase something that ends when you wake up. Reality is something you must be able to hold on to with two hands, not just a blind vision. And yet, there are realities that one cannot grasp that impact us on a daily basis. I lack a father. The void is real but I cannot hold it in my hands.
Every time I stand to relieve myself in my bathroom, I look at the mirror (assuming my UTS – urinary targeting system – is on autopilot) and read a short quote I wrote on a piece of paper and put on the mirror:
“If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I’m about to do?”
Each time I read that, I have to ask myself if I have an answer for that question…