A fruit with a few spots can still be salvaged
I sit here in the breakfast room with new morning light and soft candelabra glow illuminating the soft antiquated color palate, sipping spiced black tea out of shiney silver-gilt china and think how lucky I am as the evidence of the world's collapse drones on from the telly news.
So I say cheers to you in this new year, and no matter your circumstances, I hope you will always feel blessed and grateful, because I am at my most happy when I am thankful for "the little things."
Though I live currently with roof over my head and food in my tummy due to the generosity of family, and the NCESC rep. says it is unlikely I will find a better job, my "boyfriend" left me (might I add, no fault can be laid upon myself in this matter, save loving too easily)... I am happy in gratitude.
I often feel I am a loser-- not in the sense you would expect, but rather that my life will have passed and I will not have made a decent impact on the lives of others. Am I so selfish, sitting here enjoying tea instead of going to homeless shelters and cooking chili for them? I feel "Yes." I hope to do that one day, but why not NOW?! All we have is now.
To compound this view, is the story of a family friend's son, 42, who died at home, unexpectedly of pneumonia, leaving a wife and newly adopted son from Germany. Another, a friend who was only 16, a kind, mild, beautiful person, that is NOT an exageration in any form, who passed a few months ago after a seemingly healthy recovery after his second heart transplant.
I read The Christmas Carol for the first time this year. My three favorite holiday time movies are: The Muppets Christmas Carol, Its A Wonderful Life, and A Christmas Story. I've seen several versions of the Christmas carol and read a childrens version when I was young, and thought it time I read the original version.
I advise doing so. I cried, sobbed, unexpectedly during a particularly paragraph of narative stream of consious, that somehow pleaded to my current emotional burden-- of dissillusionment, disappointment, and general distrust of men. Somehow... It helped me, though I can not yet explain how, unless to say that most men stay boys for far too much of their lives, and miss the gravity of oportunity, carry ambivalence towards that which should be steadfast, and live selfishly.
But I suppose that could be said of human character, not just men. I do not digress though, as you see, in my heart.
May we be blessed this year, and know the depth of it greatly!
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