How Very Like Me
As a person I have to remind myself that I am one. A person, pure and simple. Made of flesh and bone, wrapped in tissues bred from the ancient secrets of the universe, unexplained and unapologetic, wondrously made yet daunted and fallible. Nowhere near perfect and no desire to be. Just a person who gives what I can when I can to others as they require but have needs of my own that must be met; and no, I don't require those needs from other people. I require them from myself, as I am, a whole person with no more or no less than I am able. How like me to think such a thing with such conviction. How dare I think less of my thoughts than I do. As the world turns another page into the histories of forever and I linger upon a blank page staring into my own thoughts waiting for the moments when all creation speaks needing a listener to hear its still voice; unechoed, uncharted, unhearable in mad rushes of daily do's and don'ts and how like me to dare to hear it. For what a...