The Beauty of Humanity

Found Magazine was the jumping off point for this blog ... Enjoy!

The shared antics expressed by our fellow humans on Found have given us more than a few chuckles.  One in particular caught my partner's attention this morning though.  An amusing and poorly spelled letter from a fellow expressing his amorous desire to the "...Fine mamacita in the library."  "We're all a bunch of bumbling idiots" he said.

In that moment, I saw his truth and the beauty of humanity at it's greatest.  We're all rocking along, bumbling maybe but hopefully learning and growing into a more evolved beings.  The odd grocery or to-do list, a child's art, and random notes offer us a fleeting glimpse into the life of a stranger.  It's also an opportunity to see ourself reflected in another.  

Think of all the scribbled reminders, vented frustrations, and expressions of love you have created over the years.  I am the Queen of Lists and I have journaled for years.  I often come across old pieces; some scribbled just to get the thought out of my head.  I'm generally amused and occasionally embarrassed by what I find.  But I am always grateful for the opportunity to reflect on my progress.  How does it feel when you find a piece of you?  How does it feel when someone else finds a piece of you?  Moreover, did it serve it's purpose?  What's changed since then?

 

I toss most loose scraps and old tablets... eventually ...allowing them to take their place in the world.  Hopefully to be recycled but who knows, maybe one make it's way to Found.  I usually transfer the most meaningful bits to the latest note source.  Others, I  release to the Universe with gratitude for the lesson I pray I've learned well.  The journals I keep, they are too much a part of me.  They're hidden away but always close at hand.

They give substance to my journey and remind me of the lessons, pleasures, and joys I've experienced along the way.  They are the framework of my life; charting my growth, my greatest loves, and most secret dreams.  Most are old composition books filled with pages of sometimes illegible scrawl but there is something special about them.  They become sacred through the process of writing.  My soul fills their pages.  My girlish doodles spilling into the margins.

When I write to purge, I do so with intent to clear my mind and heart of whatever troubles me.  I love the tears that come with the process; cleansing my soul and leaving peace in their salty tracks.  Although it leaves a tangible trail of my shadow self; of temper tantrums, broken hearts, and genuine pain.  It also destroys all of the hiding places.  Reading through old journals, I can see how I've projected my shadow onto others only to have it reflected back to me.  My only choice is to (re)awaken my consciousness, to become aware of my shadow and that it's reflected because it's inside of me.

That's where the beauty of humanity truly lies.  In our courage to live authentically, to risk exposing our vulnerabilities for the joys of love, to fully engage life and all it's fabulous possibilities!  I wonder what will happen next?