There are so many things that no one tells you about life. So many details that only appear as you are stumbling over them. No matter how far mankind has come, no matter how many obstacles we have run, or hurdles we have jumped or computers we have hacked. Life remains, to those individuals who live it, a mystery. An obstructed view from a single window of a train that you are a passenger of. We make it up as we go, but we go. We are all inventors of our own days, our time, our speech, our relationships, inventors and spectators at the same ridiculous moment.
every morning holds surprises that you may or may have not counted on, every path you deem fit for your tender feet, each corner you dare turn , dreams and desires that are crushed or born- all have the potential to become major protagonists in your story, another color or shade that adds dimension and shape or disaster to the canvas before you. We do our best to harness this experience, master it make it our slave by forcing it to obey our intelligent plans, but life is a feral child.
man believes himself to be the center of the universe, and the galaxies laugh and the comets fall and the sun suddenly arises from its chambers like a champion. We are blades of grass, grains of sand, mere seeds, there are many of us, and we have captured nothing, but the dew from a damp evening.
there is no one book which contains the secrets , because there are new secrets every day. there is too much for any one man to pass on to the next . We have to take a chance on tomorrow, and, on the few bits and pieces of truth that we have gathered on our journey, and for one reason or another find valuable and worthy to sow.
what we may find that we find, is that, it’s not truly about what we know, or have learned or gathered or mastered. It’s not the strength that we have gained from our human capabilities, as vast as they are, collectively and individually. all we do may not grow or be cultivated. a storm may come, rains may drown our harvest, an enemy may sow tares, a drought may swallow our hopes. destiny may sweep us all away, our memories, our existence and all the kingdoms we have conquered may become ash and blow away, or… they may not.
No one tells us these things ; the things that only you and I can discover. like a road which appears beneath our timid footsteps, as we choose to continue on. every morning , every year, for each relationship, we hold the potential of a new day and forget that we might not, in fact, make any difference in the world at all. we forget the pain of letting go, and holding on, we forget the disappointment and heartbreak and the fear and we hold each moment, and each new experience like a new baby, we cradle it in our arms. We convince ourselves of something that keeps us going, whatever the outcome may be. so weather or not we know the details in the story, the story continues on. One day at a time, one moment, one man at a time, one ambition, one hope, one breathe at a time and we create it every day, we make it what it is and what it will be collectively, without consenting or ever meeting one another, we work together and life continues on. The good , the bad, the awful, the miraculous. They all move in the same direction and the sun bows to our efforts.
so yes there are so many things that no one tells you or can tell you about life. Thank You God.