Conscious to Mistakes

My biggest problems have always come from my own mistakes. Looking back though, at the huge trash pile of problems that my mistakes created for me, I wouldn't change them. I wouldn't because I have learned from those mistakes. I have taken them and used them as water to help me grow into the person who I am today. Mistakes, it seems, have the potential to make us respond by traveling down one of two very opposite roads. The road that continues to make those mistakes or those similar to them, or the road that avoids repeating them. A lot has to do with the individual. That determines which one of those roads they will take in response to their mistakes. I wish I had the magic spell that, when repeated, would always help me to respond by traveling down the "right" road. All I can say is, I try to be conscious about what I am doing post-mistake. That is what helps, along with some God sized help, to direct me to the road of non-repetition.

Wishes

Wishes have been on my mind a lot lately. I just can't help but believe in making wishes. Of course logic turns it all to childlike fantasies but maybe that's just the kind of thing I'm looking to embrace. Either way, I've noticed myself having this one wish. Every penny I throw into a fountain, eyelash I blow off of my fingertip, shooting star I see, and 11:11 I catch, I find myself making the same wish every time. You know something is truly the desire of your heart when you have limitless options for wishes yet you continue to wish for the same thing every time. Try to take notice of your wishes and if you don't at all, try it out. It's certainly worth the try because I'm finding that if you believe hard enough... it just may come true.

See

It all comes back to our perception. How should we see the world? As I read the works of great authors I say to myself, wow they are living in a totally different world. Why? Because their vision is marked by creativity and imagination. They sense something deeper. I'm not saying everyone should live in some kind of fantasy world 24-7. I'm saying that we constantly have to remind ourselves of who we are and who we want to be. How we want to see. If we don't, we will fall into the trap that says the world is just superficial. So many people are just carbon copies of everyone else, strutting through life without taking notice of what's around them. It's all surface to them. No creativity. No deeper meaning. I've been known to fall into that trap. We all have. It's just so terrible because that's simply not who we were meant to be. There is so much more to this world beyond just the surface and we were meant to dream it up and draw outside the lines. It just all comes back to our perception.

Gary

People feel. People hurt. I've narrowed it down to people's eyes. It's been said that people's eyes are the windows into their souls. I couldn't agree more. I looked through these very sorts of windows yesterday. The man's name, as I know it to be, was simply Gary. I really first noticed him as I was talking to another man in the kitchen of The Mission. The Mission is a shelter for the homeless and a house of recovery for addicts. As I was talking with this man, Gary walked in. He didn't say anything to me. He didn't have to. It was his glance that did the talking. I can't even describe how I knew. It was the kind of glance that said, please come talk to me. I need someone. I need genuine human interaction. He wouldn't come right to me and say that but he unconsciously did. So from there I picked myself up and walked a few yards over to his table and sat myself down. Gary was real. Mid to late 50's. His face was warm. Eyes narrow as if sun were pouring into the room. I clearly remember his eyes. Windows. His smile was sincere. His teeth like crowded dominoes stuck in black tar. Gary was real. It seemed like he was never given a lot. Right when I sat down he pointed my attention to the book he was reading. One of the counselors had lent it to him. He spoke slow and fragmented. A result due to substance and alcohol abuse. When he spoke you could tell he was frustrated. His mind was perfectly able to assemble exactly what he wanted to communicate, but his lips were unable to. It didn't matter. I loved talking to him. I asked why he turned to alcohol and drugs. It was one of those questions that you are unsure you should ask but after thinking it through, do. Upon hearing it he winced. You could tell he needed to answer. That he would receive healing upon being honest and releasing something that was undoubtedly haunting him for a long time. He spoke of his brother. As he said the word brother I saw through those windows. It was beginning to rain. The thick streaky fog appearing on those windows. It was that word and that word alone that told his story. A story of deep sorrow. Love turned to nothing. Abandonment. All clearly articulated by one seemingly simple word. Brother. From that point it didn't matter what else was said. He gained what he needed. From giving me that first glance he told me what he needed and he got it. I didn't have to say much. I did say I would be praying for him. He knew he needed to move on and he uttered that he was in the beginning stages of healing. He knew that the road to healing took its first steps with honesty. He was honest. Painfully honest. All I could say to him was, turn to God. Upon which he difficulty and confidently replied... I will.

Love Your Enemies

Love Your Enemies from Kristen Miller on Vimeo.