Today is April Fool’s day. Why the first day of such a glorious month was chosen as a day to celebrate foolishness, I don’t know, and I really don’t want to know. I enjoy a good laugh, a good prank, and seeing the creative mind being exercised. Have fun, you little pranksters.
The bigger question for me today is: What is really foolishness and being a fool?
At times I see it as a positive thing, something admirable, full of strength and courage. Other times I see it as being weak and stupid, something to be avoided at all costs. There are times I love being a fool and chasing foolish pursuits because it brings me alive, it stirs my soul, and refreshes my heart. Other times it tears me apart and makes me feel stupid, unworthy and unlovable.
One of the things I try to do is not judge a thing on its possible outcome, because what may seem impossible can turn into the possible, and none of us has the power to really control what happens in our lives. We can do our best to reach certain goals, achieve certain outcomes, but only God knows the end. Instead, I try to look at the results of a thing and judge it by those merits, because every decision we ever make leaves a mark, has an effect, creates a truth – a fact of what is or what has been.
Looking at things from that perspective, perhaps some of my foolish decisions haven’t been very smart ones. Things I took huge chances for haven’t happened. Other things I’d hoped for haven’t become reality. Even more things I dreamed for have remained out of my reach. On the flip side of that, I’ve accomplished some really great things in my life I thought were impossible and have experienced some beautiful things that I will treasure for as long as I live. I’m a walking contradiction… so happy with so many things, strong and healthy and doing amazingly, yet so empty, hurt and scared at the same time. I’m so proud of myself for the courage to do the things I’ve done, but also so ashamed of those things I’ve not been able to complete. Never felt more love, yet unloved. Never felt more beautiful and desirable, yet unwanted. I once asked for my eyes to be open, now I wish more than anything they would close.
Am I a fool to continue to tightly grasp those hopes and dreams? Or am I a fool for not letting them go? How does one let go of their soul? How do they let go of their heart’s desire? I know it’s possible, I’ve seen the emptiness behind the smiles. I’ve seen the shells behind drunken stares and indifferent glances, tucked neatly behind middle-class banners, dangling from the end of a needle, or in the gooey center of a jelly donut. I’ve wore its clothing and hid behind its smile. It’s comfortable there, because it’s also dead. I’m so afraid I’ll go back and give up. I’m terrified I’ll choose to be the wrong kind of fool. I’m petrified I won’t go forward. The uncertainty kills me, yet the idea of the possibilities thrills me. I’m sick, I tell ya. Sick.
Is there a cure for this big fool? Or at least a cute little hat?
Till next time,