nothing is as exciting as the border of the impossible

There were a gaggle of children running amok on the horse farm. One of them asked me how old I was, twenty eight, three years younger than this boy’s father. His response? “Oh, that is why my dad is bigger than you”. As in the older one is, the bigger (physically) one becomes. This is usually true for the first little bit of life, then something slows and stops and maybe reverses, no more growing. Or is there?
I have returned to this thought over and over in the past couple of months since. It was a precious and fleeting view of the world, and I did not correct the boy. I felt that maybe he should live just right there in his funny little universe where someone one hundred years old is thirty feet tall. At least until his older siblings were inexplicably shorter than his still growing body. I still cannot put my finger on why this is such a beautiful thought to me.

But it does seem that one can grow to impossible stature in beauty. Physically speaking maybe one may not become more conventionally beautiful, but as many accept, beauty grows on the trees of personality and grace (in this case grace meaning a self aware accepting and development of one’s strengths, and the re-posturing of “weaknesses”). It is not fully possible to reach the end of the developing road. What am I saying?

I am saying that I currently feel that each one of my greatest strengths are my absolute weaknesses as well. What is total beauty is horrifying in another light. I am obsessive and driven, a perfectionist learning to love myself in my flaws. I would venture to say so is the reader. My co-pilot speaks of their own “flaws” in much the same way, I am starting to ask a lot of people about this, to the same eventual conclusion.
Well, shit. Where does that land us? I wrote last week that we are all perfectly flawed, and still think so. And so is that tree outside your window, the newspaper men and the president. The gazelle, and it’s well engineered cheetah counterpart. There is beauty in these flaws, and it is possible to find it.
Jedi tricks, philosophical explanations, psychotherapy….What is the difference? There is a road here called Delaware Avenue and also Columbus Boulevard, and I am not sure which is actually on the sign. It is the same concrete and heat and noise, regardless of name.

So I say let’s do what we do, and do it incredibly well. In the face of everyone (including myself) that has ever passed a seemingly concrete judgement of me, I give a hearty “Thank You”. These judgements have helped me immensely in finding my own beautiful qualities. That is what I am talking about.
Abilities. Not flaws. Not gifts, talent or whathaveyou. I take a minute to realize that the twelve year old that is on stage shredding up some flatpick guitar (orwhatever) spent an immense amount of time practicing. There may be gods, or God…I have not yet met the capital G kind, a beardy fellow in the sky. I have not yet met the capital D devil. But if I squint on a tired morning, as I brush my teeth and wonder why I drew overlapping circles with a bevel tipped pen until 4 AM last night, I can see them both. Maybe only in my periphery.

Be forgiving and loving to yourself, as you are on others, not the other way around. It is very important to know and understand one’s constantly changing self.

I demand self-respect from myself. It keeps me out of trouble.

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