It seems quite unfair that over the 1000’s of years of human existence there still isn’t a tell-all book on life. Wouldn’t it be nice if said book had an index of every possible hiccup in this game called life and corresponding pro/con list for the various decisions that could be made? Like one of those ’choose your own adventure books’.
“….and all that flirting and groping was turning into something more….
(Have unprotected pre-marital relations turn to page 68)
(Remind your date that you are president of the celibacy club turn to page 73)”
But isn’t life very much like a ‘choose your own adventure’ book anyway. The freedom of not having some clear definition of right and wrong gives us leeway to run, to grow, to learn, to fall, and to rise again, like a phoenix from its ashes.
As symbolic as this “fire bird” is, doesn’t one ever wonder if this almost holy creature lives in fear of its time to burn. It seems as though many of us take a back seat in our own lives. So afraid of being burned, of being scarred, that we just sit back, taking very little risk and watching our lives pass by as if they had never existed in the first place. No room for growth, learning, expansion of one’s mind, just fear of the unknown. Some people truly believe if they hermit themselves from society that they will be free from being tainted by all the anger and sadness in the world. And yet, by sheltering themselves, these people also miss out on all the hope, joy, love, happiness, and excitement this world has to offer. Shelter yourself and live in a numb naïve state of being or take risks, live loud and free, and experience all that life has to offer? The choice is ours. The choice is yours.
We, as mere mortals, get burned all the time. The person who chose option A in our story above got pregnant at 18, became a new wife and mother at 19. And was divorced, left homeless and broke by 21. In the year leading up to 22 she had literally been beaten down by the “adventure” she had chosen. And so, the “phoenix” had to once again rise from the ashes of her former life, make the choice to just smolder into ashes and let that be the end. Or would she fight through the fire and burning to renew herself into a new life? Rise again she did, but not as a new “bird”, She still carried all the scars from the fire. The more we grow, mature even (Or at least we hope for the greater good of mankind that the greater population is maturing, or evolving.) the more I seem to think that these “scars” we carry with us are a constant reminder of where we’ve been and mostly, where we never want to be again. Proof that we have lived. They are proof that those of us that are strong enough did fight through the fire for another chance to experience the wonder that is life unscripted.