Wondering what is in store for the future is as perplexing a quandary as trying to figure out how arriving at this particular place in time happened exactly. Thinking, and thinking some more on the subject, my mind reels and begins to spin out of control, like a hamster’s wheel being powered by a guinea pig on meth-amphetamines. Thoughts swirl and whirl like a tornado gathering and inhaling in and up all the forgotten, lost memories of a woman who no longer exists. The Mind sheds its last tear of grieving liquid acceptance while the Soul wipes it away with the hand of forgiveness. A body ravaged by mortal world’s ailments, sighs a breath of gratefulness for another day of sunshine and rain on its skin, while the eyes turn to the sky for a rainbow to answer the initial question…What will the future hold?
As a survivor of anything that has the potential to set someone back more steps in reverse than they can continue to make forward it always seems to be that no matter how much good happens something horrendous lurks around the corner and surprises us at the most inopportune time. Like the monster under the bed, casting its spell on a child’s mind just as sleep is about to descend like the dove of peace. Sending the child screaming like a banshee down the hall through the parents’ bedroom door and between them in bed for the duration or until the child can be convinced that the monster under the bed is dead and gone.
Tragedy spills out all over us as if we need a good whipping by the belt of utter devastation once again. There is never a good time for an illness. There is never a better time for a chronic disease. There is never a wonderful time for the death of a loved one. There is never a reasonable time for someone to go through any abuse be it emotional, physical, mental, spiritual or sexual. There is never a profitable time to be unemployed. There is never an opportune time to be homeless. There is never an acceptable time for neglecting others in any way or fashion.
Survivors of Life are those who successfully live after the major event that occurs to destroy or rip their lives from the tapestry woven from the threads of what made them who they saw themselves as at that singular moment in time.