Sometimes life is a breeze and we sail on it like a bird, wings spread, feeling the lift as the air pulls us up, up, and up; or the way a leaf must feel as the wind plucks it from a tree, swirling, dipping, rising - wildly out of control - feeling the crisp breeze against its unfurled points, not caring where the wind takes it or where it may land, but only enjoying that moment with the breeze.
Other times, life is a wind storm, threatening to crush us against whatever it can smatter us to as it mercilessly works and doesn't give up, almost as a wildly out of control lover beats his wife, girlfriend, significant other, and doesn't know when to stop. The storm's victim, whilst in the throes of the battering rain and howling wind, is uncertain whether he/she will live or die, for life - or death - is in the hands of the powerful storm. Or so one thinks.
When things get rough in your life, it's ok to roll up for awhile. It's ok to sit in a comfy chair in a fetal position and stare blankly at the wall. During such times, the greatest thoughts are borne. Ideas, new promises, new resolves, and, eventually, the ability to say, "I have got to get out of this chair." And, somehow, you do.
Copyright 2011 liamsgrandma
