As I look back on my life and how far I have come I see a lot of similarities and a lot of differences. I am still the same reserved person I have always been and yet I am not shy and timid as I was. Sometimes when I look back I dislike what I remember, almost as if I am ashamed. What must people have thought of me then? What do they think of me now?
I feel such a competition in life, which strikes me as odd because last I checked God wasn't holding 100 spots for the prettiest, most active of his children. It's not a competition. Sometimes I have to remind myself of this... ok a lot. But when I do remember who I am and that it's not a competition I am happier and I see my self worth.
It took me some time but I finally realized what I was doing in my subconscious. I was comparing myself to others around me or rather to ideals that surrounded me. I had and sometimes still have a complexity issue with believing strongly in myself. I was downsizing my self worth because of how I was different from other people around me.
It might seem strange but once I realized what I had been doing in my subconscious I was able to get around it and I started to see a new light on life. I have felt so grateful and so blessed of late and when I kneel down beside my bed at night I have so much to thank my father in Heaven for that my heart overflows with the joy of it. The way I see myself comes to matter less and in turn my self worth soars because I am not worrying so much about it. Life isn't a competition but a blessing to be enjoyed and used to it's fullest.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Monday, August 9, 2010
Patience is a Virtue
When you look up the word virtue you get a definition that reads "Moral Excellence, goodness or righteousness." The word Excellence is one that sticks out to me. Excellence meaning the fact or state of excelling; superiority; eminence. We are not just to live up to expectation but to excel and to surpass the world's expectations.
Leading me to my next point that Patience is a virtue. How many of us can safely say that we have never cut someone off, have never sat in line to buy our groceries without stamping our feet or tapping our fingers or have never screamed at a sibling to hurry up because we need to leave? We are all guilty... yes come on admit it.
I think I can guess what some of you might be thinking. Well... I am not the only one who is impatient... everyone around me does exactly the same thing... so I am justified in getting upset every once in a while, after all no one is perfect. True... No one is perfect and we all have flaws.
I am not trying to say that whoever yells at the driver in front of them is going to Hell. However back to my previous statement... Patience is a virtue. Let me rephrase that... Patience is a step in achieving moral excellence. Starting to make sense?
The world might be impatient but we as a virtuous people are striving to be more excellent in our ability to demonstrate patience. President Uchtdorf, 2nd counselor in the 1st Presidency of the church of Jesus Christ said this of patience: "...Patience is not passive resignation, nor is it failing to act because of our fears. Patience means active waiting and enduring... Patience is not simply enduring; it is enduring well!..."
He goes on to say that impatience is the result of selfishness. If we are impatient with our fellow man we do not love them and we are not putting them above ourselves. We are thinking only of our own selfish desires. To be patient we have to love those around us and have the desire to serve them and understand them better.
I have learned that patience is more than simply sitting and waiting for the hard times to pass you by. To be patient you have to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause." D&C 58: 27 while you are waiting.
To me patience is simply an outward act of kindness. When you are patient with those around you you better appreciate them and treat them with the respect and love that they, as God's children, deserve.
Leading me to my next point that Patience is a virtue. How many of us can safely say that we have never cut someone off, have never sat in line to buy our groceries without stamping our feet or tapping our fingers or have never screamed at a sibling to hurry up because we need to leave? We are all guilty... yes come on admit it.
I think I can guess what some of you might be thinking. Well... I am not the only one who is impatient... everyone around me does exactly the same thing... so I am justified in getting upset every once in a while, after all no one is perfect. True... No one is perfect and we all have flaws.
I am not trying to say that whoever yells at the driver in front of them is going to Hell. However back to my previous statement... Patience is a virtue. Let me rephrase that... Patience is a step in achieving moral excellence. Starting to make sense?
The world might be impatient but we as a virtuous people are striving to be more excellent in our ability to demonstrate patience. President Uchtdorf, 2nd counselor in the 1st Presidency of the church of Jesus Christ said this of patience: "...Patience is not passive resignation, nor is it failing to act because of our fears. Patience means active waiting and enduring... Patience is not simply enduring; it is enduring well!..."
He goes on to say that impatience is the result of selfishness. If we are impatient with our fellow man we do not love them and we are not putting them above ourselves. We are thinking only of our own selfish desires. To be patient we have to love those around us and have the desire to serve them and understand them better.
I have learned that patience is more than simply sitting and waiting for the hard times to pass you by. To be patient you have to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause." D&C 58: 27 while you are waiting.
To me patience is simply an outward act of kindness. When you are patient with those around you you better appreciate them and treat them with the respect and love that they, as God's children, deserve.
Everyone has a Voice
From the time I was little I had a voice. As soon as I could speak I told myself stories. At first it was simply stories I already knew, based off of a book or a movie I had watched recently, adjusted to my taste and my personality. My parents could see it right away; I was not a normal child. ;) Hour after hour was spent rehearsing to myself with magazine in hand the story of characters that pervaded my mind.
Everyone has a story to tell and we are all just dying to let it out. But… in a highly competitive world full of interruptions and everyone competing for their turn in the spot light sometimes the voice you have inside of you is silenced. Or is it? Me… my voice was so strong that I let it out by telling myself my story even if no one else would listen. Personally I think that the writers of our world are those people who aren’t aggressive enough to fight for their chance to speak and yet can’t sit still without letting it all out. Before I became a writer I let it out by talking to myself. The characters that have never made it onto paper are vivid in my mind. I developed them, each unique and with a voice of their own.
I have always wanted to be unique, the kind of person who had a story unlike any other, a story that people would have to pay attention to. Although frankly my life just isn’t that exciting…
So I am left with the option of creating a life inside of my head that is more exciting, full of adventure, betrayal, intrigue and suspense. Would I really want any of the things that happen in the movies to happen to me in real life? Um…. Probably not, but that’s why it’s a story.
As a young girl I never realized just how prevalent my story was to me. It was my identity… no wonder it was screaming to get out. I write this not because I think anyone will care to read it but because I have a story that I need to get out if only for myself to read and reflect on.
If anyone were to read this, I would tell them that their story is important and that they have a voice that needs to be heard. I don’t care what the world says! I don’t care if you are black, white, yellow or purple… you are important and anyone who says otherwise is still a child of God no matter how mislead they may be.
I guess all I am saying is this… before you judge a person; learn their story, get to know them. Nothing hurts worse than having someone jump to conclusions before they read your story…
Everyone has a story to tell and we are all just dying to let it out. But… in a highly competitive world full of interruptions and everyone competing for their turn in the spot light sometimes the voice you have inside of you is silenced. Or is it? Me… my voice was so strong that I let it out by telling myself my story even if no one else would listen. Personally I think that the writers of our world are those people who aren’t aggressive enough to fight for their chance to speak and yet can’t sit still without letting it all out. Before I became a writer I let it out by talking to myself. The characters that have never made it onto paper are vivid in my mind. I developed them, each unique and with a voice of their own.
I have always wanted to be unique, the kind of person who had a story unlike any other, a story that people would have to pay attention to. Although frankly my life just isn’t that exciting…
So I am left with the option of creating a life inside of my head that is more exciting, full of adventure, betrayal, intrigue and suspense. Would I really want any of the things that happen in the movies to happen to me in real life? Um…. Probably not, but that’s why it’s a story.
As a young girl I never realized just how prevalent my story was to me. It was my identity… no wonder it was screaming to get out. I write this not because I think anyone will care to read it but because I have a story that I need to get out if only for myself to read and reflect on.
If anyone were to read this, I would tell them that their story is important and that they have a voice that needs to be heard. I don’t care what the world says! I don’t care if you are black, white, yellow or purple… you are important and anyone who says otherwise is still a child of God no matter how mislead they may be.
I guess all I am saying is this… before you judge a person; learn their story, get to know them. Nothing hurts worse than having someone jump to conclusions before they read your story…
Monday, August 2, 2010
Becoming a writer
My story- This is a story that I wrote when I was in eighth grade. I thought it would be fun for everyone to see my writing from a very early age.
“Kiara, Kiara we’re going out the door. Come on.”
“I’m coming mom” I called back. Hurriedly I grabed my shoes put them on and rushed to the door where my family was waiting. “I’m here” I announced excitedly.
“What took you so long?” My sister asked.
“I was just getting my shoes on” I answered annoyed.
“Come on lets go.” My mother said.
“Yeah lets go get something to eat.” My father announced cheerfully. So that is what we did, we went on a sunny hot day in St. George to The Chinese Bufett. The food was great and I stuffed myself with all the great foods; especially the Ice Cream. We were all eating happily when my Dad got a call on his Cell phone. In the next minute everything happened so fast; my dad put down his Cell phone then spoke something to my mother and then both my mother and father sat down looking somewhat upset. They did not eat anything after that. Althought us kids ate plenty. Me and my sister were the last ones to finish up eating and while we did two Chinese men who worked their stared and looked at us and asked us questions like how old we were and what are names were. I did nothing but tell them the truth. Then we walked out to join the rest of our family in the car.
“There you two are.” Said mom the moment we got into the car. “We were beginning to wonder if you would ever come out of the resturant.”
I just smiled. My Mom still looked a little discouraged like she had looked after my dad recieved that strange phone call. “Mom is everything ok?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you later” was all she said.
I was very confused at these words and I wanted to ask my Mom what she meant but I thought better of it. Yet I still wondered if I would ever know what she meant.
***********
Late that day when we got back to our hotel my parents fianally told us what had been bothering them. The call that my father had recieved earlier that day had been a call from his Sergeant in the National Guard saying that his unit was to go to war. We now understood why my parents had been so upset. We all agreed that that resturant was bad luck.
*********
“Comeone guys we need to get ready for Morgans baptism.” My mom called. We all groned not wanting to get in to our sunday dresses to go to Morgan our cousins baptism. I knew that it was important for me to go and support my cousin in her descison to get baptized yet I did not want to get into a dress. “Kiara” my mother called again “we are leaving in 15 minutes.”
“Allright” I called “I’m coming.” I began to pull on my dress though I was not very pleased about it then I wrestled on my tights and finally about 5 minutes later I had them on.
“Kiara are you coming?” My sister called.
“Yeah give me a minute.” I said. A few seconds later I walked over to the door where Mauri my sister was wa•iting. “What took you so long?” My sister asked.
“You do not want to know.” I replied.
*********
When we reached the church we were greeted by my Aunt the mother of Morgan who greeted us warmly. “Hi I am very glad to see that you made it ok.”
“Yeah so are we.” My dad replied.
“I was quite upset when I heard that you had been called to go to war.” She said changing the subject. “It must be very hard for all of you. What do your children think of this or have you not told them yet?” She asked my dad.
“We’ve told them and I honestly do not know what they are thinking.” He answered. I knew what I was thinking though. I was thinking that I was going to miss my dad very much. The rest of the night was alot of fun and soon enough I forgot that my dad was going to war and just enjoyed all the refreshments. During the party I asked my mom if we would be able to stay in a choir that we did while my dad was away. She said that she did not know. I began to get the feeling that things were going to be different while my dad was away and I wondered if things would ever be the same again.
epilogue
My dad really did go to war but things did not turn out to be that bad. Like we thought that he was going to have to go to Kuwait but he did not go their he went to Washington instead we were very greatful for that and we were able to continue the choir that we were in. Now my dad is going to war again this time we are pretty sure that he will be going to Iraq but we will always pray for him. I did miss my dad when he went almost two years ago and he was only gone for 6 months. This time he will be gone for a year and a half. I have no idea what it will be like but I guess that I’m just going to have to find that out. Last time he went he came back on my birthday exactly. That was very special I will never forget that day. We went to IHOP. I am really sad that he has to go again but I know that Hevenly Father will help me through it.
the end
“Kiara, Kiara we’re going out the door. Come on.”
“I’m coming mom” I called back. Hurriedly I grabed my shoes put them on and rushed to the door where my family was waiting. “I’m here” I announced excitedly.
“What took you so long?” My sister asked.
“I was just getting my shoes on” I answered annoyed.
“Come on lets go.” My mother said.
“Yeah lets go get something to eat.” My father announced cheerfully. So that is what we did, we went on a sunny hot day in St. George to The Chinese Bufett. The food was great and I stuffed myself with all the great foods; especially the Ice Cream. We were all eating happily when my Dad got a call on his Cell phone. In the next minute everything happened so fast; my dad put down his Cell phone then spoke something to my mother and then both my mother and father sat down looking somewhat upset. They did not eat anything after that. Althought us kids ate plenty. Me and my sister were the last ones to finish up eating and while we did two Chinese men who worked their stared and looked at us and asked us questions like how old we were and what are names were. I did nothing but tell them the truth. Then we walked out to join the rest of our family in the car.
“There you two are.” Said mom the moment we got into the car. “We were beginning to wonder if you would ever come out of the resturant.”
I just smiled. My Mom still looked a little discouraged like she had looked after my dad recieved that strange phone call. “Mom is everything ok?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you later” was all she said.
I was very confused at these words and I wanted to ask my Mom what she meant but I thought better of it. Yet I still wondered if I would ever know what she meant.
***********
Late that day when we got back to our hotel my parents fianally told us what had been bothering them. The call that my father had recieved earlier that day had been a call from his Sergeant in the National Guard saying that his unit was to go to war. We now understood why my parents had been so upset. We all agreed that that resturant was bad luck.
*********
“Comeone guys we need to get ready for Morgans baptism.” My mom called. We all groned not wanting to get in to our sunday dresses to go to Morgan our cousins baptism. I knew that it was important for me to go and support my cousin in her descison to get baptized yet I did not want to get into a dress. “Kiara” my mother called again “we are leaving in 15 minutes.”
“Allright” I called “I’m coming.” I began to pull on my dress though I was not very pleased about it then I wrestled on my tights and finally about 5 minutes later I had them on.
“Kiara are you coming?” My sister called.
“Yeah give me a minute.” I said. A few seconds later I walked over to the door where Mauri my sister was wa•iting. “What took you so long?” My sister asked.
“You do not want to know.” I replied.
*********
When we reached the church we were greeted by my Aunt the mother of Morgan who greeted us warmly. “Hi I am very glad to see that you made it ok.”
“Yeah so are we.” My dad replied.
“I was quite upset when I heard that you had been called to go to war.” She said changing the subject. “It must be very hard for all of you. What do your children think of this or have you not told them yet?” She asked my dad.
“We’ve told them and I honestly do not know what they are thinking.” He answered. I knew what I was thinking though. I was thinking that I was going to miss my dad very much. The rest of the night was alot of fun and soon enough I forgot that my dad was going to war and just enjoyed all the refreshments. During the party I asked my mom if we would be able to stay in a choir that we did while my dad was away. She said that she did not know. I began to get the feeling that things were going to be different while my dad was away and I wondered if things would ever be the same again.
epilogue
My dad really did go to war but things did not turn out to be that bad. Like we thought that he was going to have to go to Kuwait but he did not go their he went to Washington instead we were very greatful for that and we were able to continue the choir that we were in. Now my dad is going to war again this time we are pretty sure that he will be going to Iraq but we will always pray for him. I did miss my dad when he went almost two years ago and he was only gone for 6 months. This time he will be gone for a year and a half. I have no idea what it will be like but I guess that I’m just going to have to find that out. Last time he went he came back on my birthday exactly. That was very special I will never forget that day. We went to IHOP. I am really sad that he has to go again but I know that Hevenly Father will help me through it.
the end
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Two Heads are better than One
One of the adversaries greatest tools in bringing down God's children is that of division. We are more vulnerable alone than we are when we are surrounded by people who want to love and help us.
Earlier today I was reading out of the Book of Mormon in Alma chapter 4. In verse 12 it reads "Yea, he [Alma] saw great inequality among the people." I once heard that Pride is the mother of all sins. I would agree with this because pride leads to so many problems that would not occur if we all believed and saw each other equally and in the way that God our eternal father sees us.
Satan starts with pride, using it as his greatest tools to establish disunion among the people of God because he knows that if we are divided we will fall easier.
We have seen examples of this everywhere including in the animal Kingdom. When a predator wants to take down it's prey it does not attack the group as a whole but rather singles one of them out and then chases it down and kills it.
I am also reminded of the story in Alma of Amalakiah and the way in which he carefully and over time persuades an unsuspecting Lehonti to come down the mountain by himself into the midst of the wolf.
The devil is cunning and he will stop at nothing to get us on our own where he can destroy us. We should never give into those traitorous feelings of feeling like we are better on our own. I have at times felt like this. It is always better to stay in the presence of those who love us and want to take care of us.
There is a reason that God sent us down in family units. He wants us to be unified as families and in the church. The LDS church is based on this whole idea in the forms of wards, branches, stakes... etc. The Lord does not want us to be alone so he puts us with people who can help us in our life journey. Only we can distance ourselves from this safe haven and we must never allow it because our greatest enemy and adversary will snatch us up in the moment that we are alone.
Earlier today I was reading out of the Book of Mormon in Alma chapter 4. In verse 12 it reads "Yea, he [Alma] saw great inequality among the people." I once heard that Pride is the mother of all sins. I would agree with this because pride leads to so many problems that would not occur if we all believed and saw each other equally and in the way that God our eternal father sees us.
Satan starts with pride, using it as his greatest tools to establish disunion among the people of God because he knows that if we are divided we will fall easier.
We have seen examples of this everywhere including in the animal Kingdom. When a predator wants to take down it's prey it does not attack the group as a whole but rather singles one of them out and then chases it down and kills it.
I am also reminded of the story in Alma of Amalakiah and the way in which he carefully and over time persuades an unsuspecting Lehonti to come down the mountain by himself into the midst of the wolf.
The devil is cunning and he will stop at nothing to get us on our own where he can destroy us. We should never give into those traitorous feelings of feeling like we are better on our own. I have at times felt like this. It is always better to stay in the presence of those who love us and want to take care of us.
There is a reason that God sent us down in family units. He wants us to be unified as families and in the church. The LDS church is based on this whole idea in the forms of wards, branches, stakes... etc. The Lord does not want us to be alone so he puts us with people who can help us in our life journey. Only we can distance ourselves from this safe haven and we must never allow it because our greatest enemy and adversary will snatch us up in the moment that we are alone.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
"Dad, guess what? We almost Burned the House Down!"
Yesterday my dad walked in the door only to be greeted by the various outbursts of my siblings as they exclaimed "Dad you just missed it. We almost burned the house down." To this my dad replied in a sarcastically playful voice "Cool, how big was it?" Then in a more concerned voice he approached my mother and asked "what happened?" only to find that a rogue paper towel had gotten too close to the burner and had caught fire.
This experience was one in many of the kinds of things my dad hears when he comes through the door after work. More often than not there are simply delighted cries of "Dad's home!" However on occasion my dad is greeted by the triumphant cries of my brothers' and sister as they have risen up victorious over some near disaster in the home. I knew, from the moment that we could hear my dad as he turned the door knob that he would barely step through the entry way without hearing about it.
It occurred to me that these "experiences" are part of what makes up a family. I love my family because of their spontaneity and desire to just have fun with what life has to offer. We are not a perfect family and yet we make imperfect work.
Although mom often gets to join in the fun of what her kids are doing during the day, dad gets to hear all about it when he gets home. I often wonder what my dad must be thinking when he comes through the door to hear what escapades his children have undergone during the day. For me I almost find it comical, the stories that he gets to hear first hand the moment he steps through the door.
One of the things in this world that means a lot to me is when I can have pure, innocent fun with my siblings and in the process make my parents laugh. Often times my mother will just roll her eyes at us when we do random and spontaneous things, however the rolling of the eyes is just about as good as making her laugh.
I suppose it reminds me of what we truly are, family. Family members can do whatever they want and not worry about what the others will think, cuz guess what? We are stuck together forever and nothing we do will change that.
This experience was one in many of the kinds of things my dad hears when he comes through the door after work. More often than not there are simply delighted cries of "Dad's home!" However on occasion my dad is greeted by the triumphant cries of my brothers' and sister as they have risen up victorious over some near disaster in the home. I knew, from the moment that we could hear my dad as he turned the door knob that he would barely step through the entry way without hearing about it.
It occurred to me that these "experiences" are part of what makes up a family. I love my family because of their spontaneity and desire to just have fun with what life has to offer. We are not a perfect family and yet we make imperfect work.
Although mom often gets to join in the fun of what her kids are doing during the day, dad gets to hear all about it when he gets home. I often wonder what my dad must be thinking when he comes through the door to hear what escapades his children have undergone during the day. For me I almost find it comical, the stories that he gets to hear first hand the moment he steps through the door.
One of the things in this world that means a lot to me is when I can have pure, innocent fun with my siblings and in the process make my parents laugh. Often times my mother will just roll her eyes at us when we do random and spontaneous things, however the rolling of the eyes is just about as good as making her laugh.
I suppose it reminds me of what we truly are, family. Family members can do whatever they want and not worry about what the others will think, cuz guess what? We are stuck together forever and nothing we do will change that.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
A Never Ending Road
I stare straight ahead into the unknown. The road goes on for miles and miles. I feel a surge of pleasure, of purpose. I follow the road; where it will take me I do not know, and strangely enough I do not care. I just hope it will not end. My thoughts batter around in my head fighting to receive acknowledgment. Each one wishing to be examined and analyzed. My head is clear; I feel emotion and it's OK. I do not have to hold it back here. It is my place of security. No distractions, no putting on the face, hiding from people the turmoil that ravages inside. I am alone, just me and a never ending road.
I smile; I am running, I am leaving my problems behind. I am invincible, nothing will stop me now. The road goes on for miles. I don't have to face anything but the road ahead and another sunset. I drive towards the sunset but I know I will never reach it. The road goes on and on, the sun set never getting closer. It is like a painting, a picture of perfectness. It is beautiful because I can see it and yet it is not my destination. I have no destination.
The tears flow freely, a mixture of sobs and laughter. I remember the pain and yet I know that I am leaving it all behind, and there is joy. My speedometer reaches 90 miles per hour. I am invincible, nothing will stop me. Just me and the miles ahead on my road that has no destination.
I feel free, more free then I have felt in a very long time. I take a deep breath and relax. This is going to be a long trip. I sigh contentedly, resting my head against the seat. I have purpose and yet I do not have a destination. There is nothing to stop me, nothing that I have to do. I am free and I am leaving it all behind.
There are fields on either side of me, fields that run for miles in both directions, as far as the eye can see. The sky above is a light shade of gray mixed with pink from the sun as it drifts behind the mountains. Soon it will be dark, but time does not matter anymore. I have nowhere to be, nothing I must get done. I have all the time in the world and a road that does not end. I am now at 110, the landscape flies past. No... I fly past, I am flying. I am free.
The thoughts nag at me, something is missing. I look back, longing for something I don't remember. The speedometer drops; the road goes on for miles and miles. I am at 50... 40....30, I can't do it anymore. 20....15...10....5... I stop. My hands caress the steering wheel. I stare at the road, the road that has no destination. Never is an awfully long time, I think to myself.
My head is clear, the thoughts cascading around in my head, free... free to think and feel. The sun is almost gone.
I turn the car around... night falls. I reach 65, there is no hurry. I follow the road... I have a purpose. Tears stream down my face, this time there is no pain; there is nothing but joy and love. The love I feel for those who care about me, the ones I left behind.
I am relaxed, a peaceful serenity enveloping me into it's warm embrace.
I sigh in contentment as I follow the road...the road that will take me home.
...I stare ahead into the unknown. The road goes on for miles and miles. I feel a surge of pleasure, of purpose...
I smile; I am running, I am leaving my problems behind. I am invincible, nothing will stop me now. The road goes on for miles. I don't have to face anything but the road ahead and another sunset. I drive towards the sunset but I know I will never reach it. The road goes on and on, the sun set never getting closer. It is like a painting, a picture of perfectness. It is beautiful because I can see it and yet it is not my destination. I have no destination.
The tears flow freely, a mixture of sobs and laughter. I remember the pain and yet I know that I am leaving it all behind, and there is joy. My speedometer reaches 90 miles per hour. I am invincible, nothing will stop me. Just me and the miles ahead on my road that has no destination.
I feel free, more free then I have felt in a very long time. I take a deep breath and relax. This is going to be a long trip. I sigh contentedly, resting my head against the seat. I have purpose and yet I do not have a destination. There is nothing to stop me, nothing that I have to do. I am free and I am leaving it all behind.
There are fields on either side of me, fields that run for miles in both directions, as far as the eye can see. The sky above is a light shade of gray mixed with pink from the sun as it drifts behind the mountains. Soon it will be dark, but time does not matter anymore. I have nowhere to be, nothing I must get done. I have all the time in the world and a road that does not end. I am now at 110, the landscape flies past. No... I fly past, I am flying. I am free.
The thoughts nag at me, something is missing. I look back, longing for something I don't remember. The speedometer drops; the road goes on for miles and miles. I am at 50... 40....30, I can't do it anymore. 20....15...10....5... I stop. My hands caress the steering wheel. I stare at the road, the road that has no destination. Never is an awfully long time, I think to myself.
My head is clear, the thoughts cascading around in my head, free... free to think and feel. The sun is almost gone.
I turn the car around... night falls. I reach 65, there is no hurry. I follow the road... I have a purpose. Tears stream down my face, this time there is no pain; there is nothing but joy and love. The love I feel for those who care about me, the ones I left behind.
I am relaxed, a peaceful serenity enveloping me into it's warm embrace.
I sigh in contentment as I follow the road...the road that will take me home.
...I stare ahead into the unknown. The road goes on for miles and miles. I feel a surge of pleasure, of purpose...
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