Читать книгу Sunflowers In Space - Darcel Craft - Страница 19

I always thought it was weird, the concept of finding myself

As if there was a way to re-wind myself,

Back to the beginning.

In the beginning, there was this mystery:

When I was eight years old, my teacher asked me,

“When you grow up, what do you want to be?”

Off the top of my head, I simply said,

“Mrs. Perez, I want to be free!”

Even in my youth, I had this hunger and thirst for truth.

A yearning and burning desire to vibrate higher and explore never-ending galaxies.

I was painfully aware that my perception created my reality.

So, I would spend my free time

Lavishly decorating the rooms of my mind

With thoughts of higher things like love, death, and immortality.

And yet, here I am, a grown woman

Still trying to find myself.

I’m currently engaged in the intricate art of making time for myself.

Candlelight, table set for one

I’m learning to wine and dine myself.

You see, I’m still my harshest critic,

Why can’t I just be kind to myself?

I can easily sing the praises of the quasars and stars,

But I can’t see the beauty in my own constellation of scars.

I blame it on having the untrained eye of a junior space cadet,

Perpetually distracted by a voice inside screaming,

“ARE WE THERE YET?

Are we there yet?

Are we there yet?”

On good days I can hear my Father’s voice inside, he says

“Sit back, relax, and just enjoy the ride. You’ll never arrive while you’re physically alive.”………. And now I understand,

There is no such thing as “finding myself”.

I’m on a journey to daily remind myself, that as a man thinketh so is he.

I think, therefore I am.

The creator of my own destiny.