A bit of licorice wisdom

I’m thinking of a smile concealing pain, the pillow hiding hours of tears, this chocolate coating containing a roll of licorice horror (sorry to all people/animals/creatures who actually like licorice). You expect homogeneity but everything is far more complex than that. You see that smile and associate it with happiness, forgetting that it might also be a silent expression of sadness. You slump against the pillow and associate its soft surface with comfort, forgetting why you had so yearned for that comfort in the first place. You bite into the sweet chocolate layer, forgetting the undesired taste that lies within.

But then I’m thinking of how that smile is not just hiding pain, it is showing that you can stand up from that pain; how those tears are not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength, a moment of catharsis; how eating that chocolate-covered licorice might not have been very pleasant but it is a symbol of my ability to choose what I try and what I don’t try.

The good may disguise the bad, but we forget that the bad also disguises the good. A tough life does not equate to an unworthy one.


Gem #3

Image courtesy of Beth Alexander
Image courtesy of Beth Alexander; Designed/created by Katho28

I remember attempting to paint Vincent Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Starry Night’ at the tender age of eight, and thinking how perfectly those stars resembled tiny suns. It was as if night and day couldn’t help but blend themselves together into one far more intriguing, beautiful sky.

Tomorrow I will begin another chapter in my life, and the thought of moving forward into this new world terrifies me to no end. I will be in unfamiliar territory and I will not know anything with certainty. I will be lost, stumbling, fumbling, trying to find my way around (literally and metaphorically). I will be all alone, a tiny boat in a wide ocean. That’s alright though. Because even if nothing’s sure and steady anymore, I trust that the stars will guide me and that my heart will lead me the right way.