Color schemes
Writing will be my deterrent from bursting into a verse of My Favorite Things or any other Julie Andrews medleys, as I bathe in the comfort of warm woolen slippers and breathe in the (though mildly congested) crisp fall aroma, wafting in by blustering cool waves of wind. It concerns me a smidgeon to think that I've never truly appreciated a lot of things in life, whether it be tritely overlooking nature or other simplistic beauty, or more integrally arbitrary matters such as health, or the privilege to education. Why is it that through the extending arms of fate or random chance that I am the one sitting here in relative warmth and comfort, with the ability to express ideas in various means of communication, the capicity to perhaps further social and personal understanding and stance, while there are others out there, who by no fault of their own, are not?I pondered this notion habitually last summer, working with people whom I at first looked at with much sympathy because of their seemingly unfortunate mental handicaps. But with extended interaction and burgeoning friendship, I discovered such vivacity for life, such a pure perspective of expectations and norms. So the question I pose is this: is it exponentially easier to be naively optimistic and happy not knowing, or to be cynically jaded either by personal or surrogate experience, but instrinsically know ones' own capabilities and prospects?
I once had to describe myself in three words, though not having to be interrelated. I used two. Cautiously optimistic were the adjectives I chose to confine myself to. And the more I think about it, it's true. There are daily misgivings that frustrate me beyond belief, and moments where I feel downtrodden. But becoming increasingly more prevalent are those tiny splices of time within an infinite revolving sphere that I look and see that this path is laden with opportunity and hope. I see it in the gentle sway of a tree in autumn, in the elderly couple that still walk hand in hand, fingers intertwined, and even sometimes, in myself. And thus, I think that the true answer to the question may lie somewhere in between black and white, somewhere in the vast spectrum of grey.
posted by Sheila @ 10/17/2004 08:05:00 PM
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