Stand up on my shoulders...

Tell me what you see?

Today is your big moment. The life you've been waiting for is happening all around you. The scene unfolding right outside your window is worth more than the most beautiful painting. This is it. This is life in all its glory, swirling and unfolding around us, disguised as pedantic, pedestrian non-events. But pull off the mask and you will find your life, waiting to be made, chosen, woven, crafted. Your life, right now, today, is exploding with energy and power and detail and dimension, better than the best movie you have ever seen. You and your family and your friends and your home and your dinner table have all the makings of a life of epic proportions, a story for the ages. Because they all are. Every life is. You have stories worth telling, memories worth remembering, dreams worth working toward, a body worth feeding, a soul worth tending, and beyond that, the universe dwells within you, the true culmination of super and natural. You are more than dust and bones. You are spirit and power and image of god. And you have been given today.

Breaking boulders beneath my feet...

It seems forever stopped today...

I think I may have taken for granted certain things and it seems that I will soon get another lesson in defeat and disappointment. This time it feels peculiar though, mostly because I can't really pinpoint what exactly went wrong, and what I would have done differently if given the chance. Is that why my response is mostly rational? Yes, I feel the frustration of discontent, yet nowhere near what I used to when faced with similar circumstances. Maybe this is what it means to grow up - to realise that failure and adversity can't always be avoided. That even with the best intentions and the greatest of aspirations we are bound to stumble.

There are times when I’m confidently skipping along, thinking that I am impenetrable and infinite ... and then I trip over my own poorly-placed steps and fall face first into the thickets. But I think there's a sort of beauty in falling. Each time I collapse, I'm reminded that I'm still human, that I'm still learning, that there will always be more lessons, growth, and discovery up ahead. So, although I have times when I'm weak, when I'm critical of myself, or I lose hope, I wouldn't give them up for the world. I cherish them – because it's the risk of falling that makes life a grand adventure rather than just a guided tour.