Hastily written notes on a phone often become moments of confession. Peering into the depths of my soul, I often tread dangerous waters. Where I question my own purpose, my own sanity, my own life. Yet I find comfort in the uncomfortable. Filling volumes with public confusions most would dare not write. So here I am, my wife softly snoring next to me. While I am wide awake exercising the demons in my soul.
And yet she’s supposed to be the special one. Peacefully sleeping in the oblivion, I so dearly miss. So I close my eyes and breathe in the moment. Embracing the cold and silence. Years ago, silence would have frightened me. The sound of my own thoughts was a pain I hated to endure. Yet here and now, I listen to those thoughts. Detached in a way, giving them room to breathe and be heard.
So often we flow through our lives like an open tap. Letting the precious gift of life flow unnoticed down the drain. That realization has caused me a many a sleepless night. My only solace is to give away the parts of myself that I have learned and unlearned. Creating no profit from this, maybe I should just call it a hobby instead of a talent. It has taken me a really long time to understand, we are each given a gift. Rather through our physical labor or more executive task. We are here for each other. And that my friend is purpose.
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FD Thornton, Jr
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