Our stories, our lives

Everyone has a story. What is yours?

As the clock ticks above me, I sit in front of the laptop fingers poised to type. A story. Maybe.

I have a painting that an old family friend painted. We chose it as our wedding gift. I chose it, I don't think Craig had much say, he just went along with me. It is a painting done in oils, in a pointillist style, of a river running through a field of wild flowers. The main colour is blue. I liked that and then went a framed it badly in a thin blue frame.

I have that painting in my office. I see it as a metaphor for my life. My life as a river. Sometimes wide and running smoothly, deep and trusting. Sometimes rushing, smashing over boulders and jagged rocks as I crash my way to what? Sometimes a thin, meager stream in a hot, dry drought.

A river knows where it is going. It is always headed downhill to the sea. One way. Twisting and turning, maybe; getting lost in small tributaries occasionally, but always heading down, down, down to that wide open ocean. That's how I feel. I inherently know where I am going. Sometimes I get sidetracked, sometimes I dam myself up and get stagnant, but then the wall can no longer hold and I burst my banks and continue. Often with help.

How about you? Do you have an image or a picture that talks to you of your life's journey?

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