To ponder all the things and people we move from, outgrow or replace. We spackle nail holes to hide where pictures and objects once were visible and had significance. We donate clothes that caught our attention in the store, adorned us for special occasions or perhaps hold memories of simply growing. We move from a home that made our hearts gasp the first time we entered and saw all the possibilities or even simply a place to feel safe. Or to ponder all the things or people that have left us, maybe or maybe not with spackling, re-gifting so others would enjoy, or leaving us feeling safe or breathless with possibility.
The wise ones teach that change any one and the “me” that writes this scrich would not be the same. Better or worse? Who can say. Victor Frankl’s experience in the holocaust concentration camps led him to observe between every stimulus and response there is a space called choice. Remove but one of the experiences and another choice would have opened that may possibly have changed all others. As the Buddha said, everything and everyone is our teacher, the grains of sands upon the path of choice.
To ponder all these grains of sand overwhelms my little mind and heart. But to ponder the choice, that space in between humbles me. In the humbling I am lifted by one thought…the gift of choice. The power of choice. That the Sweet Hands of Life, the Universe, the Creator of all would trust me with choice. To think of such love leaves my heart with only one whisper…
I shall trust myself for I am the Divine’s trust.