Stories

What is your story? Was someone there to see the joy and laughter? Was someone with you through your pain and hurt? Some say there is an endless energy that witnesses and fabricates all things, a loving essence that binds all things and non-things, so others question why did it not stop the hurts and the pain?

If love is love, if love is good, why does hurt, sickness or death exist? What if good is not happiness but it is, indeed, just and balanced and constant? What if constant is not always easy? What if just is not always relief? What if balance is not always equal?

What if nothing is random and everything is programmed yet life's expirience is unexpected because we are limitated? What if we fight to be happy yet succumb to a lifeless journey? This path is easy, this path keeps me going, this path gets things done, this path is maintained, this path is managable. What if we insist on quality yet are paralyzed by imperfection? This path is wrong, this path is dangerous, this path is confusing, this path is undone.

The solitude of the past maybe to shape the companionship of today, to merge two lives tomorrow. As each cell splits and some die, as one cell becomes an organism, as time passes and entropy takes its course some parts of us stay weak, some grow strong, some parts of us were struck down, some parts were fed and nourished well. Some parts of us get hidden, some parts grow calloused, some keep bleeding, some heal nicely, some mutate, some evolve, some fade away, some overshadow the rest, some sustain the whole system, some grow uncontrollable and poison the rest. This is true of mind, body, and soul. Some is seen, some unseen.

We only stop growing when we expire and we should never give up. Sometimes growing is painful. Sometimes growing is sad. Sometimes growing is possible. Sometimes growing is raw. Sometimes growing is uncontrollable. Sometimes growing is harsh. Sometimes growing is feeling. Sometimes growing is reaching. Sometimes growing is weak. Sometimes growing is rest. Sometimes growing is slow. Sometimes growing is being loved.

We are never perfect and the past is said and done. Sometimes imperfect is beautiful. Sometimes imperfect fits just right. Sometimes imperfect is oh so fine. Sometimes imperfect is what it is. Sometimes imperfect is spontaneous. Sometimes imperfect is scary. Sometimes imperfect is calm. Sometimes imperfect is explosive. Sometimes imperfect is wanted. Sometimes imperfect is accepted. Sometimes imperfect is chosen. Sometimes imperfect is well loved.

Let one learn another's life and nourish their growth as one teaches another through presence and acceptance of imperfection. One is reactive, one is observative. One feels, one calculates. Both decide based on data from inside data from outside. Write a story together, write a story that is honest. Write a story of love, joy, beauty, and peace.