9:01 P.M.
Allergy season is upon me again.
I was digging through the cabinet trying to find some Benadryl to alleviate the annoyance of the side effects of allergy season. As I was digging in a basket filled with supplements and medication I got a strong whiff of something sweet. I couldn't place the smell but it was similar to the smell of freshly cut roses.
Man, I love that smell.
What I wouldn't give to wake up to that smell every morning.
I can imagine it now, sleeping in a bed of a thousand roses....and then I woke up! I woke up to a million thorns piercing my skin....
Think about it. With roses would come those pesky thorns, and I wouldn't want to wake up in the middle of the night feeling the sting of a thousand rose thorns pricking my delicate skin.
Why does such beauty have such extreme imperfection?
Roses are so appealing to the eyes and nose but I wouldn't want to carry a bouquet around with me all day.
I don't think I own enough band aides.
Roses are a work of art, but even a work of art has its imperfections.
Which brings me to another point.
I have been feeling less than perfect myself lately.
I feel as if there are not enough hours in the day to complete the tasks that dwindle in the back of my weary mind.
I'd really love to finish this book I've been working on, but it keeps taking a back seat to life.
It's as if every force in the universe is against me completing this book.
My lack of time has fed my urge to just cut corners and put something out just to say that I've finished something but I'm not like that.
I don't want to screw this up and have to go back and fix it again and again and again.
I just don't get the same gratification when I fail at something.
I've worked so long and hard on this thing but maybe I need to take a step away from the project to fully clear my mind.
I have had some encouragement from people who act like they are interested in the book but their own eagerness confuses me.
I'm not sure what they are expecting.
Part of me isn't sure why they have faith in the project at all.
It's been a while since I have found comfort from the faith that a stranger has put into me.
Faith is a funny thing.
Some hold it in a religious context but I've always thought of it simply as when you believe in something that is not completely rational.
I look back to some of my major accomplishments in my past and am reminded that they are not just my accomplishments.
Often enough when I complete something truly great or amazing, someone else could share the credit.
(It is the faith from my boss, my parents, & my friends that keeps me going when I don't have the strength to believe in myself. It's the fear of letting them down that drives me. And in contrast, I have also been inspired by my nemesis to do well, because it is their faith and belief that I will fail the pushes me to prove them wrong.)
It is the faith that others have instilled in me that has allowed me to produce what I have amounted to today.
I'm not sure what I've amounted to, but I can't say that I'm really disappointed in my self and I think someday I'll be able to inspire others with my own faith in their honest intentions. I want to have the faith in others and help them execute dreams and ideas, putting them into motion.
I am very thankful for the blessings in my life and wish I could thank those close to me that have motivated me more often...
