Some portion of everyone’s life will always out of their control. That’s what makes life interesting and gives us stories to tell. I have fewer new stories to tell the older I get and that makes me sad. I miss the days of leaping into whatever comes my way with reckless abandon. I think I might want a few new stories.
My favorite tea cup has a quote by Souza you’ve probably seen. “Dance as though no one is watching. Love as though you’ve never been hurt. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though heaven is on earth.” I don’t think I’m doing those things as much as I used to. While I am well aware that there are people who would argue with that, the truth is what it is. My friends have told me that it’s a natural part of getting older. I’m not sure that’s true. I find myself questioning what passes for conventional wisdom and asking myself if what I haven’t really done is take refuge from life rather than risk getting crunched again. That’s a sobering thought.
This may be the mad rambling of a woman with too much time on her hands and a touch of cabin fever. It’s something to consider though. Am I embracing life and living it to the fullest or am I settling for good enough and playing it safe? A friend of mine said that he had enough stories to tell. I appreciate the sentiment and at the same time wonder if the best story has yet to be lived and is merely waiting for my permission to come to life.