Some people get up in the morning, face their own image in a bathroom mirror and deal with what they see. Hair sticking up into the air like you just exited the space ship---red bloodshot eyes---wrinkles that make you look like a chipmonk that just found a winters supply of peanuts. I suppose there are those who are pleasantly surprised by their own ravishing beauty, by bodies so full of vigor they cant help but smile--those who flex at their own perfection. We all have our little guides, little things that we check to see how we fare. Mine, I suppose, would be my fingernails. The part of me that grows, that reminds me that time is passing. A part of my body that renews no matter how much abuse my foolish brain forces them to endure. I have often told people that when I die---when the life has left my body----that the flesh and blood that is left is of no greater importance than a fingernail clipping. No need to save, no need to treasure, having served the purpose, we simply dispose of them. While we are living though, fingernails are of course, protection for our fingers. Important Tools. Their constant growth more than just symbolic of the work you do in your lifetime----but proof of the wear and tear you experience. Proof that as time passes, you are continually being renewed. Chips, cracks, breaks, splits, fingernails worn down at an angle after an exceptional bout of work, eventually grow out---heal themselves. How wonderful is that. We dont need a mirror to show us how we have lost the bloom---to show us where we have been. Not when we have ten little reminders that are proof we are prepared to deal with a future that might not be beautiful. . How lucky we are, to know that when life gets rough---that life is rough---that we have claws. We are built to take abuse, to work, to overcome so much. How comforting is that.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 15:49:36 +0000
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