Eden’s Garden

I write and rewrite, and what I want to say doesn’t seem to come out.  I feel as though I’m stuck in a square that I’ve built around my heart, painted on the walls the word “safe”, only to hide the bricks beneath, bricks of fear placed next to bricks of doubt.  Its funny how the things we use to keep us safe oftentimes we end up hiding behind and hinder us from living.  I guess these are the conditions in which I find myself living, or to put it better not living.  It is easy to live a life of caution, many people do it.  But to live a life of passion is something that is not often heard of yet it is something remembered, that kind of life conquers the boundaries of time creating a story unforgotten.  Think of the people who have lived passionately;Martin Luther King Jr., William Wallace, Patrick Henry, Thomas Edison, Mother Teresa, Jesus.  These people broke free from the shackles of mediocrity and we cannot help but pass on their stories.  It leads me to believe that we are so moved by lives of passion because it brings hope, something we scarcely allow ourselves to have, hope that the enormous amount of ability passions and potential for good that lay bottled up in us can, if we allow them to, come out and change or influence something.  Is it possible that the thoughts and ideas we have could change the world, or the state we live in, or on a smaller scale the city…our families?

This is just something I keep thinking about.  My hope for all of us is that impossible will be accomplished in small ways each day, and in large ways each year.  That the walls will slowly fall, and days that could have been lived in timidity will be lived in courage, and those days all together would make up a life truly lived and a story worth remembering.