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I am so different from the person I was, this time, last year. No longer do I receive comfort from whining about my losses. Even my own voice can grate my nerves; so I’ve stopped abusing me.
There’s an expression: “I’d give my right arm to have that.” Well, that’s not me; certainly not my mentality. Though I’ve often hoped for answers and solutions to problems, I’m more willing to exercise patience.
It seems important to people, to have dreams and goals to reach for. I like that, and yet this year has brought me great wisdom in choosing what is really culpable. In short, what makes sense for my life? How responsible must I be to plan a dream? In following “The Plan” I wrote about some months ago, I have moved forward in small steps.
The photo above has my story encapsulated. Within it I see my past, present, and future. A young lovely woman, cut down in her prime, seeks a goal to fill her life. One less wing (metaphorically), I travel on disabled, but try not to let it get me down. Indeed the opposite is beginning to happen. Not the hopeless kind of hope, or the helpless kind of help; I have so many people, places, and things to explore.
Have you ever heard the choir of heaven? At least that’s what I called the sound, I heard one day, from the sky. Thousands and thousands of voices and one note. I truly do not know how to describe it, and some of you reading would never believe me any way. My life is changing and it’s that sound I want returned.
That’s all; thanks for reading.