Looking at the end of this verybusy week into the oncoming headlights of another I am overwhelmed.
I know. That’s not very sexy to admit to.
Here, in my pink hoodie, sock monkey pajama bottoms and last nights mascara I am overwhelmed.
And the thought I keep having. The battle I am tired from fighting this week is this:
I’m not disposable.
No, I have not had an identity crisis where I compare myself to styro-foam cup.
Recently, while listening to a lecture by Andrew Kern of the CIRCE Institute called “The Nature of Man” I was reminded of the importance of the individual.
The fellow man, created in the very image of God, who lives near me. His inherent, innate value lost in the shuffle of a society more in tune with the product of humanity and all that we choose to believe makes us worth the effort of relationship, companionship, family…
I really, truly believe that those around me in the haze of their own issues emanate the spark of Divinity in the very act of animation and living. No matter how small. To paraphrase the Great Doctor.
But do I believe this about me?
When the specter of divorce threatens to rip a family member from my life… When one you considered a dear friend discards you in favor of another, more interesting person? When I quantify my success by filled in blocks on a registration form, a spreadsheet, a time card… A clean and orderly home.
If I can just conquer the mountain that has loomed over me since childhood I will then have the right to square my shoulders and blaze a path with confidence and determination.
If… When… Then… Maybe…
I am tired.