We're all creators of our own masterpiece. And this creation may or may not have a tangible form. A tune, a poem, a winning goal, a child, a feeling...
All it needs is a little passion. A small pulse. A tiny power. A life of its own.
And life is a mystery.
Most of the time, it whizzes past us in a blur. Some days I wake up happy. Some nights I go to bed feeling miserable. But most of the time, I'm somewhere in between the two.
Just like everybody else, I have problems. But I never have to worry about food, water, clothes, a roof over my head or a family to call my own.
Ever since I was a child, I've wanted to witness a miracle.
Like every little girl, I waited for a fairy with translucent wings and a shimmering white dress to touch me with her magic wand. Call it an overdose of Enid Blyton's books in my early years, but I really did believe in pixies and goblins. For a long time, that's all I thought miracles could be made of.
It's strange how the definition of a single word changes at different stages in an individual's life.
When I was a teenager, a miracle no longer meant an encounter with my fairy Godmother who'd turn a pumpkin into a stagecoach for me. When you're 17, a miracle in an average teenage girl's life means making it back home before the curfew time your Dad's set for you. And believe me, Cinderella had nothing to lose in comparison!
Now that I'm older (not wiser, just older), the parameters of a miracle have changed again.
For a long time, I thought it'd be a miracle if the ideal job offer would come through. But it did. A good job. A good boss. A good workplace. And as soon as it all came together, it ceased being a miracle.
I've never felt that meeting the perfect man would be a miracle. I've met men who've been more than perfect to me. I've met the other kind too, but let's leave that for another time.
My miracles meet fulfillment. And no, I don't aim low at all.
And maybe that's where my talent lies. In recognizing the music around me without being able to play or sing a single note. In appreciating art without being able to tell the colors apart. In appreciating a photograph without being able to tell the correct position of the lens.
And in loving life, without being able to understand any part of it. And that is my very own miracle.
I've never felt that meeting the perfect man would be a miracle. I've met men who've been more than perfect to me. I've met the other kind too, but let's leave that for another time.
My miracles meet fulfillment. And no, I don't aim low at all.
And maybe that's where my talent lies. In recognizing the music around me without being able to play or sing a single note. In appreciating art without being able to tell the colors apart. In appreciating a photograph without being able to tell the correct position of the lens.
And in loving life, without being able to understand any part of it. And that is my very own miracle.
Miracles will keep happening, in a way you may not even realize. Angels might not come flying with their wands, but may take a form of a kid, guiding you through when you are lost in a new town, or even as a friend with his healing hug. You may have been an angel too, a miracle for someone...
ReplyDeleteMiracles can be variable. Do you define miracle now as something within sight ? Have you modified your words because of the reality around you ? Are you in touch with whats impossible ?
ReplyDelete"I've never felt that meeting the perfect man would be a miracle. I've met men who've been more than perfect to me. I've met the other kind too, but let's leave that for another time. "
What is a perfect man exactly ? Let me know if you have an answer to that . If perfect is a standard how can you measure it and how long does it take for you to figure it out ?
Don't close your mind and have a final word on anything . For all you know your perfect man does exist if only you stop with the measuring already.
No I don't know you don't want to either and I have no intentions or agenda attached in any which way . I am reading though. It fascinates me ...
E.A.
Miracle for me, is waking up every morning and realising that I am doing what I love...
ReplyDeleteIt dint happen for a very long time, so one day I just quit my job and started on my own...
Since then, I never wished for a miracle...It just happens everyday in front of my eyes...
I don't know what to say. And before that sounds cheesier than the cheese burst pizza that you have every alternate day, let me try to explain.
ReplyDeleteIn one respect I'm quite the opposite of you - I want to understand everything, and especially those things that touch me, influence me. I feel a sense of accomplishmen on being able to understand something and explain it (not necessarily to anyone in particular). I find it beautiful to see various kinds of 'causes' culminate in an 'effect'. In fact, I get so obsessed by this analysis that I often miss the proverbial woods for the trees. I many times fail to offer a visceral response that things of beauty deserve. :)
But what amused me is that there is still apparently something very similar between you and me - that is perhaps the fact that you are at peace with yourself. How you are lets you be happy (at least that's the conclusion I could draw from the blog posts I read :) ). You seem to be a very happy and content person. And that is why I was pleasantly surprised to read this blog post. :)