Everything that matters most is everything you cannot see.
|The Witch King of Angmar- and you know it.|
I coughed up that pithiness just now while trying to think of more than a mere little facebook status update thanking everyone for their birthday wishes. It kinda sums up my whole existence…
And by the way, thank you all very, very much for taking a few seconds to send me a note!
Those few clicks of the keys brought a smile to my face. Your kind remembrances where only other gift I was given this year apart from simple experiences: dining out, movie, circus and museum going…
I did not receive any material gifts- excluding food and drink, of course. I think this is the first time I have not been cluttered with objects useful or otherwise… No cards, no left over cake, no thing to mark the day as special to me. Unless you count several transaction receipts and the doodle I made on my wall calendar. It feels odd to buck long standing traditions, but I am glad to have not been given more things to be responsible for. I feel I have more than enough to deal with as it is- and that I am a lousy steward at that! I should not have my things still piled up at my parents apartment, for instance. I ought to find the time to sort that out and not have them burdened with my material goods. That is not fair, but poverty keeps the odds rigged against amending the situation. Heh. Poverty also keeps me moving around and keeps my parents stationary.
I don’t want to talk about Poverty; that gigantokickyourassadon in the room, but I guess the conversation is going in that direction.
Poverty does a thing that is far crueler than leaving you without a new pair of shoes or with an empty stomach. It flatout robs you of creativity, pinches out the sparks of imagination. It invites Depression. For the longest time I have been confronted with the constant unseen excuse blockades of minds that don’t even know they have been duped into a slothful state, instead joining with quick wakeful minds searching for and creating ways to make things happen. Poverty of the wallet is one thing, but poverty of imagination.. that is the real breaker. And that close friend Depression It brings along? That, that is a ruthless killer. I know. I have hosted them both.
Like I said, I didn’t want to talk on those lines…
So, after my mind almost wondered completely off the course, I do have some return words, my charge, for all you who wished me birthday happiness: Reader, even if you never get the creativity into a creation, be aware and keep the stream flowing. Please. Because when you don’t, it makes is so much harder for those who do- or those who are trying. Don’t be a dammed soul.