Life Is Like Swiss Cheese
So, I was thinking. In and of itself pretty normal as I think a lot, all the time, about almost everything. I think, rethink, overthink. I think, therefore I am, right? Ok, I digress.
On a recent thinking binge, it occurred to me that life is like Swiss cheese. Yes, a bit nutty perhaps (and sweet too as a matter of fact), but the description fits the flavor of both the cheese and life as well, so there it begins.
It’s whole as it is, but with holes in it that allow for some flow, for things to creep in, for no two wedges or slices to be exactly alike.
It can stink at times. It can even go bad– however you can usually just remove the bad parts and continue to enjoy it.
Swiss cheese can be enjoyed on its own, a solitary pleasure. However it’s enhanced by good relationships with things such as ham, rye, apples, and French onion soup.
So, meltdowns and all, life is indeed a bit like Swiss cheese. Some moments are just more delicious than others.
Value and worth are subjective currency
So, I have been struggling with writer’s block for about a week. The irony here is that I have quite a few (well, 11 to be exact) posts sitting collecting dust here in the untamed brilliant nest. It’s getting crowded. And I’m feeling, well, like my value as a writer is a bit compromised because I cannot quite finish any of them. They all started quite brilliantly (if I do say so myself), but then stall out as I hear the question of their worth (or lack thereof) to a reader run laps around my brain.
Meanwhile, life has dealt a few extra cards my direction that have caused me to fold, to pull out of the game and collect my thoughts, hoping for a new deck before I can gamble a seat at the table again. Just not feeling like I have what it takes to play, to compete, to keep up sometimes. What do I really have to offer since so much has been stripped away from me?
And then sometimes gifts arrive — ones you go ask for, and the one that just shows up on your doorstep (or email) unexpectedly, but so much more needed that you even realized until you opened it. Last week friends listened. Today one spoke. She reminded me of a gift I had given her a while ago, that I did not even realize at the time would have such an impact or be worth much more than a fleeting comfort. But more than a year later, it has been re-gifted to me with recognition of its value along with some special brilliance that reminds me why life is always better than it may seem and that while we can always get through anything on our own, it is always better, worth more perhaps, with a friend to hold your hand on the journey. Friendship is one of the most valuable currencies there is.
Here is part of the gift I received today, and I’d like to share because it is so valuable, worth reading several times until it is the ticker tape that encircles any questions of self-worth you may ever have.
Gifts come in many different shapes and values. Love, kindness, forgiveness, and caring (for one’s self as well as others) are gifts that even a pauper can give freely in the present. Value comes from within although the world sometimes conspires to make us believe it is equivalent to money, material things, or the next bauble. Truly believing one’s inner value takes strength and care.
The only gifts that I have for you today (and really everyday) are my love, caring, and sharing one of the most important lessons of my life (look for the beauty and good in the smallest things in life around you). Some days that smallest thing is the best you will get but it is a wonderful reminder of the good and beauty in the world.
And then of course, there is a quote that is very dear to me that I share regularly, words of encouragement from Christopher Robin to Pooh Bear: “Promise me you’ll always remember that you’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”
Brilliant. I may just dust off some of those unfinished bits this weekend.
No More Pigeons
Accept that some days you’re the pigeon, some days you’re the statue.
I’ve seen that quote a number of times, meant to offer comfort at times when things just aren’t going your way, a means of encouragement to endure, to persevere. Good advice — suck it up, could be worse, blah, blah, blah… BUT, it occurs to me, in my new rebel mindset, that there is at least one more role to be played that cuts the shit out altogether, and I like it MUCH better — I am going to be the sculptor.
Yep, I am SO done being the one who gets crapped on, I have never really had a desire to do it to anyone else — it feels so much better to build people up, to cultivate good relationships, meaningful conversation, hope, love, and wisdom. And so I aspire to be the sculptor who crafts the piece (otherwise known as my sense of self) which both inspires brilliance and impedes shit from sucking the joy out of life. And I am pretty sure it’s possible.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I can hear you out there, you naysaying pigeons — it’s just not that easy or everyone would do it. Well, guess what, in my tour of reinvention I developed a bulletproof pigeon shield that deflects the bullshit. It’s made from equal parts of laughter, joy, and acceptance. Mix up a batch and see what brilliant thing you can sculpt for yourself.