Stacks of papers upon my desk are a sign of unaccomplished assignments. Waiting for perfection is a “halt.” Frustrated, I run motionless. But wisdom says I have a doorway you can walk through. Run I say run…. As I tripped over being perfect, skinned knees bleeding, I asked… why stop when you can be crawling? Who said you have to be perfect anyway?
That’s My Mischief!
Some mornings when I wake up, I can tell right away that my mischief is being provoked. The little red guy with horns was whispering into my ear. I listened closely to his instructions and plotted my course of action. Chaos began as I walked to the grocery store. Standing right in front of me was a chick with blue hair. With a smile, and loud enough to draw some attention, I mentioned I liked the color. For just a second she thought I was making fun of her. But glaring back into my eyes she could see the sincere. It did look good. I continued to smile. Her different appearance said to me, “I am an individual.” Aren’t we all! Her return was an ounce of blush, red cheeked, and I think her heart melted just a little, feeling the love. Continue reading “That’s My Mischief!”
The Little Monsters
The little monster seems to always be hiding in the shadows or in the dark corners of the room. He never sleeps and is taunting me day and night. The moment I am feeling happy, he pokes me with a hot iron, causing pain. The welts and scars are hidden with a false smile, a mask, and a clever remark. I spend so much time guarding myself against the darkness, it consumes me. Once again, I am no longer focused on pursuing my dream and am preoccupied.