Strength

What does it mean to be strong? I always had this image that personal strength meant that in times of grief and sorrow, we could stand tall, and face the reality of what life presents to us, after all, if we take a step back, what does it all really mean?

In time everything is meaningless. Love that was shared will diminish, lives that were shared will diminish, into thin air. Everything changes, everything moves on. We want to believe that life has a deeper meaning, but does it? 

What we know and what we feel, what happens to that in the end?

We make decisions in our lives that we know will hurt us. With a clean slate it is obvious to sight, but to one that holds a mess of scar? Does it stand out enough to be noticed? Or is it dug into an unhealed and supple place.

It really only takes one in a billion, a droplet in a snow storm to make a shift, and who would have thought a dream would turn to a nightmare come true with but a single stray thought.

And had it been known, of course it was known, would it take the same path twice? I suppose it wouldn't. Fear holds us all in contempt.

So let's have it, if strength is to face reality and to accept it indifferent, and life is just the thoughts, the emotions that we create and submerge ourselves in, then the reality is what we create, and perhaps, to be strong is to lead a life that is controlled by the refined sophistication of knowledge.

We are not stupid. We know, we act, we take responsibility, and in the end, we should feel it, then smile, then let it go, never to forget, and always to reminisce . To know the system, and to overcome it. That is strength