Where my neighbor sees unkempt weeds, I see a meadow that provides shelter and food for the many wild things that share our property.
Where a friend sees a messy floor, I see happy dogs playing and chewing up bags and boxes that cost me nothing.
Where someone else sees a dead tree, I see a snag that provides perches for birds who want a clear view of their surroundings.
Where my neighbor sees a pile of composting horse manure, I see rich nutrients for the garden that feeds me, as well as a ‘diner’ for birds, and a playground for my dog.
Where some horse people see wasted years in a six year old gelding who has not yet been ridden, I see a journey with a challenging horse that has resulted in a bond that those critics will likely never experience.
In this challenging time, it is important to keep things in perspective. Perhaps this is a time to actually reassess our own perspectives on everything. Life is messy. My place, by many people’s standards, is messy. Yet, where others see problems, I see joy. Joy in the birds that sing all around me. Joy in the puppies that play at my feet. Joy in the horse who trots up to greet me, and now happily joins me in our ‘work’ together.
Short of a tragedy, if something makes you unhappy, annoyed, or generally displeased – it is not really about that thing, but about your perspective. Try changing your perspective, and perhaps you too will find joy in the messiness of life!
Stay well!
Lia
I have been targeted by bullies most of my life. That may come as a surprise to those who have confided that they found me intimidating prior to getting to know me. I credit these opposing ideas to the fact that I am typically the quiet person in a room. For some, being quiet is a sign of weakness; for others, a sign of strength and confidence. In school, the quiet loner is typically the target of bullies – and, from my experience, the same holds in the world of adults. My lifetime of dealing with bullies has proven one thing – the idea that they are strong is a complete fallacy.
As we approach the centennial of U.S. women getting the right to vote, the two leaders are white haired old men, and the media is filled with discussion of how the country is still not ready for a female president. This nonsense only compounds my frustration with the lingering white male hierarchy. I have long been tolerant of the minor sexist transgressions of men. For many it has been a transition from how they were raised. However, as the decades pass, with little change – and I get older – I find my patience wearing thin for the same old nonsense.
To the man who told me that I needed to act a bit more dumb and needy to get a man – why would I want a man who needed that? I know that you meant well, as a friend; but did you really think about what you were telling me to do? Why can men be who they are, and expect women to be attracted to them? Yet we are expected to use makeup, change our behavior, even get surgery, if necessary – all to disguise who we really are, just to please you?
What I realized, as the weeds were falling in front of me on this spring afternoon, was that I have been under a dark cloud since that day in the parking lot. The intervening years held more significant losses, more significant injuries (including a fractured vertebrae that still reminds me of its presence), and more crap job situations. I’d lost my best job, stagnated in the next job, worked myself sick over a major project, then was subjected to bullying and humiliation for nearly two years.
brought into my life a joyful fuzzy fellow who I credit with keeping me ‘off the ledge’ in recent years. He never fails to bring a smile to my face. But until the last few months, that smile was always under a shroud and short lived.
If you have ever come out of a long period of depression, perhaps you will recognize what I am about to describe. The cloud began to break apart before I was ever aware of it. Good moments were countered with bad ones, but at a pace that decreased without my really registering any difference. After all, the last decade plus had it’s brief bright moments, too. But one morning I woke up, and everything was different. I cannot tell you why or how – but everything that morning just felt brighter and lighter.
sunshine. They are not bubbly people – that can sometimes add to the burden of the cloud, rather than removing it. However, they are collaborative, supportive, and share common goals. They gave me the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel. I had to find my own way out, but after too long navigating the curves in that dark space, I finally saw the direction out.
time within it. The person I was, for over a decade, seems like someone quite aside from the person I was before, and am once again. In over a half-century of life, I have certainly been through bad times, and had periods of depression. But no other period lasted so long, nor made such a fundamental change in the person I am every day. I can only hope that I have learned the lessons I am trying to share – that there will always be a light at the end of that tunnel, but when you are seeking it, you must first make a fundamental change in your life. Oh, and that change I made – it recently became permanent. Here’s hoping the effect of it is, too!