37 (audio)
Is it just me, or have things been weird around here? Like, weirder-than-normal weird? I don't know what it is, exactly... more people leaving, more explosions. ...Well. The explosions were only tonight, I guess, but still...
[She trails off. Her train of thought picks up abruptly at a different station.]
It's been a long month.
[A pause. She doesn't sound upset. Tired, perhaps, but not distressed.]
And even though it's been a long month, I haven't tried any of those essays. None of the topics really pinged me, you know? But I kind of like this last one. Growth. There's a lot to say about it, isn't there? There's the aging kind of growing, the getting-taller kind... but the growing that I think is most interesting is the kind that happens inside people. Not--I mean, not tumors or anything terrible like that, but the growing that we do when things happen and we end up having to change to cope.
A lot of bad things happen. I know that's a serious understatement, especially here, but it's true. We've all lost people or things that were important to us, or we've been hurt in a way that nothing could really fix. We have the curses. We have friends disappearing and killer sheep and all kinds of things that make us feel awful and frightened and lonely and desperate. Life's hard. There's no lying about that. Sometimes it's so hard that we feel like nothing can make living worthwhile anymore, or like we won't ever be happy again. It's like a rainstorm starts and never lets up, and we start thinking that all we'll ever have in life is rain.
Rosella said something about cutting away parts of bushes to help the bush grow. We're like that, I think. Parts of us get cut away, but then we grow back better than we ever were before.
...Maybe it'd help if I told a story. I'm not that great with metaphors.
[She collects her thoughts and begins--slowly at first, but then more surely.]
Once upon a time, there was a girl who had everything--a nice place to live, friends, and, best of all, the greatest parents in the world. She was one of the happiest girls ever. She was so happy that she never had to stop and think about why she was happy. She just was. There was never any reason to not be happy. Life was pretty amazing for her.
One day, though, that metaphorical rainstorm I was talking about started. The girl lost her parents, and then she had to move away from her house and her friends. For the first time in her life, the girl wasn't happy. She was hurt and lost and mad at the world and, even though there were good people around her who could have cheered her up, she didn't want anything to do with them. All she wanted was what she'd lost. Nothing else would work.
And this girl... she was mad for a long time. She knew that she'd never be happy again.
When she was a little older--not too much older, but old enough to be smarter--the girl met a woman. In most stories, this woman would've been a fairy godmother or someone like that... and really, that's exactly what she was. The woman didn't have anything. She didn't have food, a roof to keep out the rain, a friend to listen to her--nothing, but she could still smile at the girl when she talked to her. When the girl met this woman, all of the hurt that she'd felt for herself disappeared. She felt bad for the woman who didn't have everything she had. Maybe the girl didn't have a nice home or a real family, but she realized that she had more than this woman. It wasn't fair that some people had to live like the woman and find happiness in that while people like the girl could be unhappy even when they had everything they really needed. It wasn't right.
I don't think she meant to, but the woman showed the girl how to be happy.
The girl grew up and she never stopped being happy--not really. Sometimes things happened that made the girl feel lost or lonely, but those feelings always passed. Sometimes she was upset at the world for making lives so hard for people that they couldn't imagine being happy again, but being mad didn't help. So the girl helped where she could and tried to show people what the woman had shown her. It didn't always work--the girl wasn't always a great teacher, and sometimes she forgot what she was trying to teach--but eventually...
[A thoughtful pause.]
...But eventually, she lived happily ever after because she'd grown.
[There's another pause as Penny contemplates adding to that... it wasn't a very good entry, really. After a moment, however, the device shuts off with a decisive click.]
[She trails off. Her train of thought picks up abruptly at a different station.]
It's been a long month.
[A pause. She doesn't sound upset. Tired, perhaps, but not distressed.]
And even though it's been a long month, I haven't tried any of those essays. None of the topics really pinged me, you know? But I kind of like this last one. Growth. There's a lot to say about it, isn't there? There's the aging kind of growing, the getting-taller kind... but the growing that I think is most interesting is the kind that happens inside people. Not--I mean, not tumors or anything terrible like that, but the growing that we do when things happen and we end up having to change to cope.
A lot of bad things happen. I know that's a serious understatement, especially here, but it's true. We've all lost people or things that were important to us, or we've been hurt in a way that nothing could really fix. We have the curses. We have friends disappearing and killer sheep and all kinds of things that make us feel awful and frightened and lonely and desperate. Life's hard. There's no lying about that. Sometimes it's so hard that we feel like nothing can make living worthwhile anymore, or like we won't ever be happy again. It's like a rainstorm starts and never lets up, and we start thinking that all we'll ever have in life is rain.
Rosella said something about cutting away parts of bushes to help the bush grow. We're like that, I think. Parts of us get cut away, but then we grow back better than we ever were before.
...Maybe it'd help if I told a story. I'm not that great with metaphors.
[She collects her thoughts and begins--slowly at first, but then more surely.]
Once upon a time, there was a girl who had everything--a nice place to live, friends, and, best of all, the greatest parents in the world. She was one of the happiest girls ever. She was so happy that she never had to stop and think about why she was happy. She just was. There was never any reason to not be happy. Life was pretty amazing for her.
One day, though, that metaphorical rainstorm I was talking about started. The girl lost her parents, and then she had to move away from her house and her friends. For the first time in her life, the girl wasn't happy. She was hurt and lost and mad at the world and, even though there were good people around her who could have cheered her up, she didn't want anything to do with them. All she wanted was what she'd lost. Nothing else would work.
And this girl... she was mad for a long time. She knew that she'd never be happy again.
When she was a little older--not too much older, but old enough to be smarter--the girl met a woman. In most stories, this woman would've been a fairy godmother or someone like that... and really, that's exactly what she was. The woman didn't have anything. She didn't have food, a roof to keep out the rain, a friend to listen to her--nothing, but she could still smile at the girl when she talked to her. When the girl met this woman, all of the hurt that she'd felt for herself disappeared. She felt bad for the woman who didn't have everything she had. Maybe the girl didn't have a nice home or a real family, but she realized that she had more than this woman. It wasn't fair that some people had to live like the woman and find happiness in that while people like the girl could be unhappy even when they had everything they really needed. It wasn't right.
I don't think she meant to, but the woman showed the girl how to be happy.
The girl grew up and she never stopped being happy--not really. Sometimes things happened that made the girl feel lost or lonely, but those feelings always passed. Sometimes she was upset at the world for making lives so hard for people that they couldn't imagine being happy again, but being mad didn't help. So the girl helped where she could and tried to show people what the woman had shown her. It didn't always work--the girl wasn't always a great teacher, and sometimes she forgot what she was trying to teach--but eventually...
[A thoughtful pause.]
...But eventually, she lived happily ever after because she'd grown.
[There's another pause as Penny contemplates adding to that... it wasn't a very good entry, really. After a moment, however, the device shuts off with a decisive click.]