I haven't written much lately, I guess it's because my mind is so full of technical details that it is hard to pull myself out of them to focus on anything else.
The kids are growing, all off to school again, it is rather an odd feeling to have my oldest in middle school now. His school is right above the little high school that I went to after I had him. Driving him to school the other day was a surreal experience, I recalled driving with him as a baby, the anxieties that I had back then, the beliefs that I had about myself. It took courage just to show up to school, I was so depressed that it was difficult to pull myself out of bed in the morning. I remember thinking once that I really should do something for my son, wake up and do something, but I couldn't.
That was then,
Now each day is full of doing something for the kids, though I still feel the need to do more.
I think sometimes, that perhaps the past is a subject best dealt with and left alone, yet the past is what makes up the fiber of our being. The experiences that we've had are who we are, plus the choices we continually make, our desires, our likes.
I was philosophizing about life once (I know hard to believe init?) I thought of all of the things that make up our identity, where we live, what car we drive, the clothes that we wear. Can people rightly assume from those factors who you are? I realised that no, not completely, they could see the outward signs of my situation but not who I really am. My hopes, dreams, and potential are hidden.
If I could I would live in a beautiful Victorian style home, with antiques that I collected decorating the rooms; I would buy vintage clothing, just because I thought it was neat; I would have beautiful gardens planted with all sorts of beautiful plants and flowers; I would drive a powder blue VW Bug; I would wear nice clothing, though I wouldn't necessarily have a lot of it.
I can walk with dignity, even when walking in poverty, for I am not poor.
The kids are growing, all off to school again, it is rather an odd feeling to have my oldest in middle school now. His school is right above the little high school that I went to after I had him. Driving him to school the other day was a surreal experience, I recalled driving with him as a baby, the anxieties that I had back then, the beliefs that I had about myself. It took courage just to show up to school, I was so depressed that it was difficult to pull myself out of bed in the morning. I remember thinking once that I really should do something for my son, wake up and do something, but I couldn't.
That was then,
Now each day is full of doing something for the kids, though I still feel the need to do more.
I think sometimes, that perhaps the past is a subject best dealt with and left alone, yet the past is what makes up the fiber of our being. The experiences that we've had are who we are, plus the choices we continually make, our desires, our likes.
I was philosophizing about life once (I know hard to believe init?) I thought of all of the things that make up our identity, where we live, what car we drive, the clothes that we wear. Can people rightly assume from those factors who you are? I realised that no, not completely, they could see the outward signs of my situation but not who I really am. My hopes, dreams, and potential are hidden.
If I could I would live in a beautiful Victorian style home, with antiques that I collected decorating the rooms; I would buy vintage clothing, just because I thought it was neat; I would have beautiful gardens planted with all sorts of beautiful plants and flowers; I would drive a powder blue VW Bug; I would wear nice clothing, though I wouldn't necessarily have a lot of it.
I can walk with dignity, even when walking in poverty, for I am not poor.
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