It Took Me 57 Years
Artistic expressionism. Drive. Passion. I get it. I finally get it after 57 years and 9 months. And I’m one of the lucky ones. Many people go their whole lives without getting it. Many people go through their entire lives in robotic motion, sans emotion, taking up space…wasting precious time. I don’t want that to be me. That will not be me!
I saw a beautiful human being rendered a crying, hopeless, helpless mess on a reality show this week. The show was called, “So You Think You Can Dance”. The man was so engulfed in his dancing that he failed to connect with his audience and, unfortunately, came to this realization mid-performance. The poor soul ended up in a pitiful crying-heap, mid-stage, with not one understanding or compassionate comment offered to soothe his pain. He simply gave too much of himself and we, the viewing audience, were ill-equipped to accept this raw and disturbing emotion, and consequently did not know how to respond. What a shame!
This set me to wondering how often this behavior triggers negative/confused/hurtful response from people in everyday life…to those just trying to share their passion, to express their feelings in the one way they’ve discovered does it for them, whether it be dancing, writing, acting, art, poetry, sculpting, singing, mothering, loving or speaking…by those who want to open their minds but haven’t quite grasped the means by which to do so. How do we all come together? How do we all understand one another? I just wish I had the answer. I can only ask the questions, and hope I open some minds and lubricate the thought-processing mechanisms that are our brains.
Fifty Seven years is a long time to walk this earth and not have a passion, not have a voice, but somehow I managed it. Fifty Seven will forever be my very favorite age because at 57, I discovered writing. I discovered my voice. For those of you who do not have a passion, you will not comprehend my journey, and I would strongly and desperately advise you to find that passion. For those of you who know how it feels to write something that moves you to tears…those of you who know how a poem represents your sadness, in a way nothing else can….those of you who know how drawing a picture of the clouds viewed from your bedroom window completes you and helps you sleep at night…don’t waste your discovery, your passion! Use it to fulfill you. Use it to make your life sweeter. You’ll never use it up, as long as you keep using it. It dries up when you quit. Funny how that works.
Tonight I write from my heart, and to my friends with love. Don’t worry about me because I’ve found my voice, my passion, and my life is so much sweeter because of it. If you haven’t found that passion, look for it. Find it and embrace it. You won’t believe how much fuller your life will be when you find your voice.
Much love from a happy 57 year old writer/mother/grandmother/sketcher/humorist/lover/friend/daughter/human.
Please feel free to leave your thoughts on my thoughts.
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