When we were in town today, we saw one of those "bumblebee yellow" bronco-type vehicles. I said to my granddaughter, "If I were young, beautiful, and rich, I would buy one of those cars." But I know that I wouldn't have. Even if I was young, beautiful, and rich. Those vehicles just don't fit who I am; or ever was. They stand out so much from other vehicles that I think you would have to be pretty comfortable with yourself to drive one. Maybe that is why I am always so fascinated with those vehicles; and with the people who drive them.
If I was young and naive once again - not realizing that you have to work with what you have inside you, I may have tried to change myself to fit the car - but I doubt it.
It was always those inner qualities that I wanted bad enough to try to force myself into believing they were a part of me before I actually had the chance to grow into them.
I didn't realize that, for most of us, those qualities come only with age and lots of painful lessons. It's not like going to Sears and choosing this one, that one, and another one to go with it.
It takes a long time, a lot of effort, and a willingness to be patient. A lot of waiting goes into birthing any quality worth having - and there is a price to be paid each step of the way - a sacrifice that has to be made. It is not as easy as fishing a few coins out of our pocket and being done with it.
Now I am content to be who I am. It feels good to finally be at peace with the face I see in the mirror. I don't want to make any more sacrifices in hopes of becoming a better person. For today, I am choosing to keep what little I have left and leave the designing to braver or more foolhardy souls.
About Me
- Rambling Rose
- I grew up in a large family, married young, survived two husbands, raised two children, helped raise two granddaughters and a great-niece. I am now retired from the workforce and am committed to finding out who I am outside all the roles I buried myself in.
Paints With Words
My Christening Award
6 comments:
There's a book - not sure of the title - but it is something like "If I had it to do over again I would wear more purple" - you might like it.
It's one woman's life reflections. My sister bought it, I'll ask her for the title.
Here it is - WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
Papier Mache Press--Watsonville, California 1987
WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Thanks for sharing that with us, Rose. I love it!
It's hard to let loose of that conditioning - maybe I'd better wear a little purple each day as a reminder to myself.
I've spent too much time being a rule follower. It gets so engrained in you after awhile that it becomes automatic, you know what I mean?
There are Rules? I should have paid more attention.
Excellent post, and Rose....wonderfully "silly" and yet poignant poem.
*I try not to spit*
You didn't know about "the Rules"? You lucky boy, You! Sometimes I wish I didn't.
I never learned how to spit; but I sure do sputter!
I haven't read the book yet - but I think I will. It's funny the things we tell ourselves we can't do, and the reasons why. In retrospect I just shake my head.
Post a Comment