Saturday 21 February 2009

That´s Faith.

Someone suddenly tells you, “Your naivete is what I love the most about you”, it makes you stop and think. Especially when you’ve been, of late, also described as strong, brave and daring, thus a world-wise thirty-something sophisticated, right at home in a generation that thinks cynicism is chic.
So I’m naïve.
I know that everyone I meet is superior in some way, and in that I can learn from them.
I believe in daring to reach for a heaven far beyond your grasp; doing your part to assuage wounds wrought by many lifetimes of strife and knowing that it will take double that number of lifetimes to completely heal.
I believe that life is absolutely beautiful, no matter what one has to go through, and that the beauty of life is not measured by how happy I am, but on how happy others can be because of me.
Very few things threaten me. I can look every bully in the eye and I know I will not flinch. Probably more the result of the brashness of youth than the wisdom of years. I think when I get to claim the wisdom of years, no bully can come close to me or my own.
I think the best kind of job is not the job that gets you a fat paycheck or gives you generous car plan. It’s the job that makes you sleep well at night and eager to get up the next day, but if it comes with a fat paycheck and the car plan -, well, don´t expect me to say no.
I believe that the fire in my belly can quell the butterflies in my tummy, and that my phantoms are no match for my passions.
I believe in love, purely and utterly: keeping it when you find it, allowing yourself to be swept off your feet by the violence of its current but at the same time rocked to gentle sleep in the constancy of its embrace.
I believe in the certainty and constancy of my friendships.
I believe I’m fabulous and beautiful, and if you don’t agree with me, that’s because you’re wrong.
I certainly believe in a Higher Being that holds everything together, and lovingly allows us to find that glint of light amidst wars and hunger and cancer and injustice and oppression —- But then, that’s not naivete anymore. That’s faith.

My medals.

a gold medal,
for being naive,
for being childish,
for smiling,
for laughing,

in another age,
another life,
medals,
for being brave,
for being strong,
for defending,
for giving,

for being me,
with no effort,
I get gold medals.

tomorrow,
when I´m old,
and withered,
bent,
and toothless,
with no strenght left,
grumpy,
spent,
and demanding...

what will be mine
when all my medals
find another.