Mary Jane's Shoes

Mary Jane's Shoes

Musings of one person among many. Not exceptional in any way, as with all, I have exceptional experiences and varied reactions to those events. Mine is one of many life stories and how I manage and cope with the events which make my life my own, I attempt to put forth by way of my writings.

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Fortune Brought By Rain

May 30, 2015

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With every drop of rain that travels from cloud to earth, I try to give recognition and thanksgiving. With each moment that leaves a mark on my life there is less space, less time for uneasiness. Much is good. Much is beautiful. Much is beautiful even in its ugliness. Ugliness does serve a purpose. Ugliness due to human neglect or wrongful choices shows us an opportunity for repair. It is a visual or mental image that sees us take notice. It is a notice for each of us to act not just for ourselves. This is beauty. At this time my dears and I see a health many would like to feel themselves. We feel the wind; we taste the fish. We read the words on the page, and hear the surf. We touch the snow frigid on our fingertips, and smell the grasses cut in spring. We find constellations made from stars millions of miles away and we have the capacity to dream of what exists beyond the stars we do not see. 

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To own for a time a mind which is able to feel each drop of water that touches skin is an ownership to be relished. This is a mind that retains a surplus of gratitude and indebtedness. Nevertheless reminders are necessary thoughts, words. We are human and this comes with a full dose of natural survival instincts. We can become overly concerned with ourselves and not others. As such we forget how fortunate we are to be merely present. 

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This mind is given life and I can count the petals of a rose and feel the sharpness of its thorns. I see and smell smoke rising from a grill, and hear children’s laughter and their sibling arguments. I can mix paints resulting in, to my eyes, new colors. If I choose to do so I can take the equivalent of mud, create a form which touches minds and hearts. 
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This person, this life has the ability to sing a song that is stuck in her head, and she can cry or laugh or argue a point. This person can dance, even as it is for a brief time. This human can stomp and yell when angered. She can open the door for a friend and open her arms to hug him. How fortunate I am to be a creature that can taste such a large part of this world in the space and time allotted by my physical form. How could I possibly ask for more?

~ mary jane goodman-giddens

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