Fool

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,

~T.L. Gray

Welcome Home

For as long as I remember, I’ve always dreamed of home.  It was never a particular four walls, in a tree-lined street, or had a white-picket fence, but a feeling of being loved and belonging.  I’ve imagined a moment when I walk across a threshold, and no matter what chaos stirred outside, inside I’d find safety, security and serenity.  I’d feel a sense of solace and strength, a place to rest, lay down my weapons of warfare, and know I was connected in completeness with another life force.  It’s been the greatest dream I’ve ever had, and the influence to many of my life-changing decisions.

I sometimes think it’s unfair that some people have this reality their whole lives, and often are unappreciative.  They take advantage, use, or abuse the people who give them that sense, yet enjoy their benefits.  I learned early that life is ever unfair.  Had I not had the unfair life I’ve led, I doubt I’d love and desire that sense of home the way I do.  But, then again, perhaps that would be better, because then I wouldn’t be left with this empty, unwanted feeling all the time.

I used to think this sense of home was a myth, especially after living for so long in what would be deemed the ultimate family dream.  Yet, it was all just an illusion.  I never felt loved, wanted or accepted.  I always yearned still for my home as I did my best to provide such a sense for someone else.  I’ve felt it, briefly, in what seems like a blink of an eye, but completely.  So, I know it exists.  That only makes me want it more.

Someday, someone will say to me “Welcome Home” and I will know dreams do come true.

Till next time,

~T.L. Gray

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