I haven’t had much time to write a post lately, but last night as I was sweeping my kitchen floor, I had a thought. Who picks the color white for a kitchen floor. Sure, it looks nice, but let’s be realistic. It’s horrible to clean, and my white tiles looks orange and brown in spots after years of use. On my hands and knees, cleaning these tiles, those spots don’t fade. They stay strong, perfect little imperfections in my floor. And then it dawned on me. Those imperfections are a lot like life.
We trudge along our day-to-day lives, and as much as we strive for perfection, we can never achieve it. There is always something that goes wrong, and always more that goes right. At least, that’s how I look at things. So, the imperfections that come along are actually exactly what we need to show us that life isn’t perfect. Nothing is. And that is what makes it beautiful, and different. Those spots that always look dirty are needed to get us where we’re going. To make us see that although stains aren’t always welcome, they are unavoidable. Years go by, and the traffic through the floor of my kitchen will grow as my children have friends over, and more stains will be added to the old ones. And each spot on that white tile floor will make me remember something about my past. Will make me think about my children dropping bits of food from their high chairs. So maybe, just maybe, those stains will change to something special.
I know, a lot of words for a few stains, right? I’m rambling about spots on my floor. But these ramblings and grumblings about a few darkened spots on the floor have given me the revelation that sometimes, stains are just what you need in your life. Having a perfectly white floor may look clean, and sharp, but it can also be very plain. The stains on my floor show that I’ve lived, and I will love each and every one of them when I’m old and gray and look back on the life that I’ve had.
You squeeze them until they are mush in your hands, the juice flowing through your fingers and dripping onto the ground below your feet. Oh wait, that’s not what you do at all. But, let me share something. I’ve been handed a whole lot of lemons lately. A whole lot! So, instead of throwing them at the wall, or the nearest rude customer I wait on, I’m going to peel them, and eat the slices. I know, you probably just puckered your lips just thinking about that, but you know what? I love lemons. Always have. I used to eat them raw. My mom and dad would take us out every Friday for a fish dinner, and I would always say, “Can I have your lemons?” So guess what? I’m gonna keep puckering my lips as I taste the delicious, sour juices slithering down my throat.
Another little note, and perhaps a piece of advice. I know that everyone has a profession. Whether it be something you went to school for, or a job you work part time because you are a parent and that comes first. Regardless, just because someone has a job that is beneath your own, be nice to them. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a cashier, and some days, I can see the way people look at me. But let me ask you something? If you didn’t have a cashier when you went to the checkout, how far do you think you would get on your own? It’s not as easy as most people think. It’s hard enough handling people on a good day, but throw in the fact that you have to scan groceries and listen for your beep in a sea of a million other beeps heard round the store, and the fact that your computer keeps freezing and see what you get. I’m telling you, it’s not hard, but it’s not that easy either. So be nice to the people who are waiting on you. Whether it be a waitress, or a cashier, or a gas station clerk. I don’t care who it is, practice civility, and it will come back to you ten-fold!
This wasn’t a rant, just an observation, and perhaps a bit of advice! See ya next time!
I’ve been a real funk lately! Some family issues has drug my spirits down, and taken the words right out of my mind. How do you get out of a funk? Well, for me, it’s simple.
I read. If I find a good book, it will drag me right out of my sadness. I started reading The Hunger Games. I know, these books are old news, but they just kept falling down the never-ending to-read list and I never got to them. Long story short, my hubby bought the books for me for a Christmas present, and I just now started devouring them. Although the writing style is a bit different than what I generally would read, I’m finding myself immersed in the book and actually want to keep reading.
I’m almost finished writing my novel. I actually just finished my Second Draft, and I’m going through once more, combing the 85,000 words I’ve written to get everything just right. Of course, here lies the problem. It’s never going to be perfect to me. I think I suffer from a tiny bit of OCD when it comes to my work, ha-ha! Who doesn’t, right? So, I have to let myself go a bit, and really listen to what my characters want. In order to do this, I need a clear head, and that just doesn’t seem to be happening lately with everything going on.
I’ve generally never had a blog, but it’s nice to just write. It actually helps clear my mind. As does reading. A good book inspires me to do better, and so I find myself wanting to dive into my world, filled with demons and angels and a small group of humans who’ve been gifted for something special. So, here I go!! Wish me luck, I’m probably going to need it.
Today, I want to talk about a little thing called life. Events in my life have brought me here today, starting a blog that I really have no idea what I’m doing. But, because I want to be a writer, and am working on my very first novel, here I am. Life happens, right? So do we roll with all the punches it throws at us, or do we get buried in a never ending pit of dirt and debris that is thrown our way? I say we roll along!
I’ve had a very rough week. A week that I didn’t think my family, nor myself would get through unchanged. I’ve proved myself wrong, because my family, as well as myself, have come through the trials and tribulations and stepped out the other side stronger than before. I know, a little cliche, perhaps? Life is all a cliche, it’s what we make of it that turns it into something unique. Extraordinary.
Life is what you make it. I’m here today, sharing my stories with you, because this is the next step in living my dream. And if you can’t live your dream, or attempt to, what is the meaning of life? Just a few things to contemplate today, this rather rainy April day!