A long time ago I posted a link to this little song. Pondering stress has me convinced I need to post it again; the beauty of a silly song being – it just makes you feel good.
We only crossed paths for a short while, always at work, and only for the blink of an eye. You were there one day, gone the next. Inquiries as to your where-a-bouts met vague explanations; dealing with health issues, needing some personal time, taking care of family matters. Not my place to press the issue – I backed off, yet you never left my mind.
I doubt you understand how gracious and beautiful you are. I say this because even though I know nothing about your life, I was able to read your eyes like an open book. I had those same eyes many years ago; eyes that gave away any attempt to feel “normal”, eyes pleading for something they couldn’t define. I recognized your pain, stoic attempts to pretend life was under control.
I don’t know why you’re so sad, but know you where damaged along the way. For what it’s worth – damaged people are the most interesting people I know. People who are able to show compassion, view the world slightly off centre, and accept unconventional points of view. Without even knowing it, you demonstrated these things over and over again.
Wherever you are; know that it’s OK to be damaged, let down and disillusioned. Understand you are not defined by the past, and deserve a future. Whatever sorrow holds you down, also makes you shine. I doubt you comprehend the impact you have on those around you. Your spirit, kindness, empathy, and compassion rise above bottled bruises. I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but it’s my way of telling you how special you are.
I live in a place known for rain, a Canadian city released from the grip of old man winter in exchange for grey days. Occasional snow storms break the monotony, sunny days are few and far between.Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a recognized affliction; a form of depression caused by lack of sunlight.Winter is predictably gloomy, yet short – over in the blink of an eye.
My eye sees beauty in all that grey. Overcast skies are a gift, offered in exchange for stoically splashing through puddles. Ponder that gift of sight, and accept the opportunity to view the ordinary as extraordinary. Discover our world beyond sun splashed postcard expectations, and you’ll discover layers that expand horizons.
Click on the link above – extraordinary ordinary.