Tag: Truth

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A Moment

There are those moments where I lay in silence, waiting for the world to stop. I sit and wait for that moment of quiet, but it never comes. People never stop moving; they never stop going. I often feel like I’m watching them while standing in the street, itching to be heard. To be seen.

I watch as the people zoom past, scrambling to reach their new destination. All while I feel confused and disoriented. Everyone always appears to know where they’re going and how they will get there. I have never reached that postmark, and maybe neither have they. It merely appears as if they know where they are going.

I suppose it’s better that I don’t pretend, so I don’t become lost in the bustle. I guess waiting for that magic moment where everything was clear, was the child in me. Because life doesn’t arise from a collective whole but that of moments put together.

This world may knock me down. This world may be tough at times, and things may never become what I expect them to be. But to stop trying means to falter and end. Today I am a sitter, watcher, listener of the world, and all the people.

There are those moments where I sit silently and wonder what it is to be. The answer may never be clear, but I have this moment, and that’s all I need.

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Harsh Words

Criticism is inevitable in this life. It’s something we all must face at one point in our life. It can come in high school when people tease us or from our bosses who don’t think we are performing to our best abilities. Or even sometimes it can come from the people we love most. It’s unavoidable, because no matter how safe you play in this life, no matter how much you try and stand out, or in some cases blend in, someone somewhere may point out a flaw. Of course, no one likes to be told they have an issue with themselves or aren’t good enough to meet someone’s standards. That’s also human nature, to protect ourselves, to protect our egos. The real test is what we do with that criticism. And when I say criticism, I mean constructive, because people cruelly pointing out some flaw they see isn’t constructive. But I digress, do we collapse under other’s harsh words, or do we let those words motivate us to find what we want from life?

If you asked most people what one of their biggest fears was, some would say failure. But my question to them would be, are you terrified of failure, or are you afraid of the criticism you might receive for trying? So many of us, including myself, let our fear of rejection and criticism hold us back. That fear keeps us from pushing ourselves to be better. Playing by the rules doesn’t make history. Hiding under a rock for a lifetime because one is afraid to be seen seems like an injustice. I’ve learned that some people may love you, some will always dislike you, but none of that matters if you don’t like yourself. I’ve learned that those harsh words of criticism don’t matter as much if you know who you are. No one should ever stop someone from being themselves or doing what they love, but ultimately, it’s up to us to decide the actions we take in our lives. Because success isn’t about becoming famous or winning, it’s about staying in the game and being true to ourselves.

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The Waves

The waves that crash against my feet feel like a thousand butterfly kisses grazing my skin. The waves are so soft and light as they wash onto the shore. I watch as the water ebbs and flows between my toes, and I can’t help but feel grateful for this moment. Thankful to breathe the salty ocean air and feel the breeze on my skin.

I soon stare out at the lightly colored horizon and can’t help but wonder what lies behind. The clouds create shadows and wispy figures that blow in the breeze—swaying back and forth to and fro. I can’t help but notice through the translucent waves I see a pile of rocks buried in the sand. It looks tall and sturdy, but part of me wonders how something under so much pressure can withhold the waves and remain in place. I can’t help but hope that one day I will be that sturdy, that no outside forces of the world disfigure my shape. But until then, I suppose I’ll continue to watch the waves crash against my feet.

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My Broken Doll

I have this broken doll at the bottom of my drawer. She remains hidden from the outside world. Her limbs are twisted, and her hair knotted. Her white legs are covered in stains. A once pristine porcelain doll is now busted and shattered. Although she is battered and bruised from the years, I keep her. A thing that was once so beautiful doesn’t deserve to be thrown away with the trash. If anything, she deserves her own glass enclosure, preserving her beauty that won’t let her decay further. But I’m afraid my friends that life doesn’t work that way. Time doesn’t work that way. Because with time comes aging and the loss of beauty. Sometimes we become broken or hideous to those around us. But only after we lose our beauty do we truly see the characters hiding underneath our exterior. Only once we shed these facades will we see our real strength. Because without that safety net, all we have is ourselves.