I know... but, I got to thinking today, about all the things in life, in the world, that can chip away at a person. All the things that make us less, that can take away pieces of ourselves. I started wondering where all those pieces go, when they're chipped away. When grief or pain or fear take your sense of what should be.
I was picturing this, all the places and people we meet along the way, trying to put pieces back together, trying to reclaim... something... and it occurred to me that putting together is just the other side of falling apart. The people we meet, that we are drawn to, they complete our sense of self. Or, at least, the worthwhile ones do. The ones that are truly for us, in the same way we are for them--- hopefully, anyway. If we all could be so lucky, I think the world would be a good place most of the time. And what are places but the people that inhabit them?
The image I had in my head was our bodies/souls as this sort of velcro surface that has everything that's ever happened to us just stuck there. Sometimes we manage to scrape it off, but not without price. It usually takes skin with it, takes something literal of us with it. Eventually, hopefully, experience teaches us how to not let everything stick. It helps us to pick and choose what we're going hold close to us, what we let go of. With any luck, it helps us to find those pieces that we find ourselves missing. Pieces that were once a basic matter of what went on in our brains and souls.
Feeling introspective today I guess. Huh.
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