Is what some call a body that looks like mine these days. Skinny and wrinkled like an old, well-used piece of gift wrap in some places, covered in small flakes of fine skin in others.
Age spots make interesting patterns, if you have the imagination of a dreamer; the eye that sees, and the heart that feels love… and compassion… oh yes. A million miles of compassion and empathy wrapped firmly but cosily around what they choose to call…
WASTED?
How wrong and mistaken, misled, and misinformed, mysteriously misinterpreted, can they be?
No way was any part of this quite magnificent form, formed. Certainly the ‘magnificence’ is lost on the list of many who refuse to acknowledge the exceptional beauty the clefts and cracks of time have worn with purposeful meaning and dogged intent.
WASTED?
The only thing ‘wasted’ is this space of time or life’s inner strength developed to cope with a bit of daunting adversities and personal losses; repeating to myself (often) ‘what doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger’.
And always remembering the words of a fellow sufferer (whose second bout of cancer reappeared after some years of remission). She had experienced several months of radiotherapy and was just starting a long course of chemotherapy.
Her words to me, on recent visit, - “they cannot kill a couple of old birds like us too easily, hey? Had a ‘few goes,’ but NOT YET!” A woman truly of my own heart, although the cancer treatment of our individual choices is as wide apart as could be - as we ourselves are.
The largest and most difficult of this part of this learning curve, is digging deeper than
ever before and finding the amazing levels and depths of patience required to
step forward, no matter how difficult and/or rough the path at present. I believe – with all my heart and soul – GOD IS LOVE,’ and that supreme love is our answer to any despair we may experience
Absolutely nothing is wasted through these stumbling steps. Only one who has been through similar personal losses can understand fully the monumental struggle this is at present. I have heard of some who feel shame and disgust at their earlier works. Huh?? Do they feel the same way about their kiddy ‘stick figure’ drawings (or like me, a sun up in the corner of every page, even when I said it was raining?} I’m sure this was the our very best of our capabilities at the time… and none of us can expect better of ourselves than that.
I am always proud to look back on my developments… as should each and every one of us. Give yourselves a break, dear ones; stop judgements; embrace
pride for challenging yourself; be proud the steps move forward, no matter how
slowly.
I think it was Einstein who aaid something like; “I have not failed 10,000 times… I
have just found 10,000 ways that will not work” How uplifting is that?
Nothing WASTED there, huh?
Bio.
Christine is a writer, farmer, wife, mother, grandmother, and rescuer extraordinaire of a number of animal species including three children. Currently, Christine is battling cancer and a recent possible stroke, diminishing some more of her abilities… but never making her indomitable spirit falter. She anticipates a riotous reunion of flash-dance proportions at the Rainbow Bridge some time well into the future.