It's been a long time since I wrote on this blogue since the tales of my characters have been kept alive...
Such things happen when suddenly reality is better than fiction, and then when reality is so cruel you can't believe it's happening to you. Those wounds will take me a long time to heal from as long as I choose to heal yet that isn't what made me want to write... That tale may come in due time with my own conclusions hopefully so that I may forgive, forget and let go.
What makes me want to write is failure, giving up, letting go.
I have been so confused and nervous because of it. I have a hard time admitting I've done it, for fear of letting go but I realized it's not the first time I "gave up".
I "gave up" learning the piano. At least twice and I keep coming back to it but I gave me more energy and resolve to put more of myself into singing.
I've been singing for years but for the past 11 years I've been singing in four part harmony. What would have happened if I had kept up the piano when my calling is in fact to sing. I still love the piano but a lot of what I know about music and that took me so long to learn through piano I have learnt almost instinctively through singing.
So am I in fact a failure? Did I in fact give up? or did I just choose to invest my time in something else where I am much happier...
Now a days happiness is sometimes the last thing on our minds but it is important. When we can find no joy in life we end up sick. Happiness does in part come from within but it also needs to be on our radar. Doing nothing does not make people happy. Humans need to do something we need to move. We were made to survive...
On the other hand doing nothing too does not make us happy. Like everything it is a question of balance. Maybe that balance is happiness.
Maybe giving up isn't giving up but waiting for later, for a better time, or perhaps no longer forcing something when we are meant to be doing something else. Can that really be failure?
It's the roads we travel that make us who we are...
Is someone who travels the world before finding his path home any less than the person who travels but one path to get there?
Some of us must travel far to find that we were home in the first place but in the meantime we became someone different. Some people need to travel the long way some the short way and some just need to go somewhere else before coming home.
Did I give up? Am I a failure?
I can probably spend the rest of my life wallowing about this wondering if I made the best decision. There may never be an answer especially if I spend the rest of my life questioning my decision.
So am I a failure?
Failure is only if I do not take this experience as a way to grow, if I learnt nothing from it.
Failure is the inability to grow with the odds...
So what if I could not break this rock above me, as long as I grow around it I may yet one day grow strong enough for my leaves to rise high above it.
