Maybe it’s the Sagittarius, the hunter, the archer or the explorer in me. Maybe I crave adventure because I have not seen much. Maybe I’m… all that people say about me, but maybe I’m not. And, perhaps… you know, perhaps, it’ll just blow over someday, and later on, little David will walk into my house, or I’ll get a call and he’ll tell me how he’s been getting on since he got adopted (which is now).
I can write, I can draw, paint, create, and I can explore. In this life, so far, I’ve not had the knack for creating and growing anything except an idea, which is easier to cultivate than to bring to fruition, at least in certain environments.
N0w, I cannot say much for almost anyone. I cannot tell anyone who should do what, what they are best at, or what their life’s ambitions should be, just as I am not able to allow anyone else to tell me how to be me.
I do know, I can go forward. It can only happen if I want it, and if I do the work. No one can fix me if I don’t want to be fixed.
I wrote a story about a little bear who seemed to think he needed fixing. I was writing about physical ailments in that sense, about my son’s belly that literally had to be torn apart and put back together. The ordeal was so, so shocking and painful to witness, and to have to help rectify, I didn’t think it would turn out best unless …unless he was with a family who would understand him for what and who he is… just a little boy.
I think in my life, I’ve been the product of a family who stood on giants’ shoulders who stood on other shoulders of someone who was supposed to ‘amount to something’. Finally, when I got to the point where I had to ‘amount to something’, that something was not what others had envisioned, so I changed it. Then I changed it again. Then I changed. In the process of my own self-change, I processed so much that I couldn’t contain much more — sensory overload, and I got sick. I continued to get sick.
I know there are correlations with highly sensitive people who have been premature or who have come from parents who were also particularly sensitive.
I am not an exception. David is the product of one such family. I pray every day, in my actions and my words. I pray with my actions because I was told by my minister that life itself is a miracle. I was also told by my friend who’s a deacon, Bethe l Baptist Church in Seaside, near the Department of Motor Vehicles, how miracles are things that don’t take a lot of effort.
I hope it’s true. As they say, He works in mysterious ways. All I can do is follow my gut reaction, and I can know, I’m okay.
That’s enough, and I can pray that those I love both here and elsewhere are fine. And I can accept, as they say, what I cannot change.
.. That’s life, right?