Sunday, 28 June 2009

  • A scene of an elderly woman with a young child in her arms, of a homeless man roaming at the streets, of children running around with their colored shorts and sandals, playing police and thief.

    It reminds me of a dream I once, I thought, I had. To shelter these children; to tell them, that the things that happened may not be only looked at the surface.  That there is hope outside the cruel, unfair world that you think you’re in. I thought of encouraging them, that life can be beautiful, as how it turned out for me. The missing piece of the puzzle can be found in Him. The hurts, the pain, the anguish of a void in your heart can be filled up. You just need to accept this gift, you just need to believe, have faith. There will be playgrounds, books, Disney channel.  There will be comfort, refuge, love. That they are able to start anew; to leave behind the burdens they have carried thus far, that wounds would be merely marks and not scars, and to walk on this path that is meant for them all this while, with heads held high, hearts reassured. The path may not be smooth sailing, there may be bumps and hurdles to trip them, the past may return to haunt them and hold them back, but nevertheless they will make it though, with footsteps trailing with them side-by-side. The storms will pass by and the sun will shine after, the rain will pour to place the rainbows in their lives. Their loved ones will be proud of them, their mockers with dropped jaws at disbelief and envy. They will be pioneers, they will be reformers, they will make a difference in the circle that they are in. They will bring much joy to the people around, to me, and ultimately to themselves.
    That was my dream.

    Looking back, I have this peculiar smile written on my face. I wonder where I got the inspiration from. Where that slice of passion did went? Has it been devoured by the very reasons that the dream was borne? Probably, I lost the very hope that I wanted to share so much. The missing piece I thought I have found, suddenly seems so surreal. Is happiness external, or primarily from within? Is it from getting what you desire, or being content with what you have? Does it have to do with Him, or is it really in the mind? I wonder if it is true, or it is just some mental deception. I wonder if life is truly beautiful, if rainbows do exist, if making a difference is really that important. That dream became faint, it blended with the distress that emerges from life itself. The very same life that I thought would impart a testimony towards the dream had caused the shatter of the dream itself.
    Ironic.

    Do I really need a dream? Why do I need a plan? They say, it gives direction. It’s to lead your life towards something. I have a direction that is not designed by my goals, or passion, or dreams. It is formed by a logical mind, not an idealistic mind. What if you succeed in something you’re not passionate about? What if you need to put effort in something you despise? That’s where it strains you. You suddenly wonder, if you can be in a place you don’t want to, yet find contentment in it. If passion, maybe, is not as important as you thought it was. If goals can be formed from rationale and not desire. If shattered dreams, should remain as it is. That we should just follow this existing crafted path, wherever it may lead us. It isn’t about wants, it’s about needs.

    Maybe I don’t need it all planned out, maybe I need to stand back up whenever I fall from being weary, and just keep walking.

     

    Little-Pizza

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