Once Upon A Time

I think deep down inside, we are all looking for reasons. Reasons to be proud. Reasons to justify what we are not proud of. Reasons to explain our suffering, or our guilt. Reasons to explain our joy and our awe. We are born curious little creatures with a need to know that helps us survive. I doubt that ever really goes away. In fact, it is considered a good thing to be reasonable. : )

We have stories that tell us how the monkey got his tail, or why the dove coos, or how the earth came to be. We have other stories based on facts, some no more than another how to story and others based on what seems to be a reasonable chain of events. The young need these stories. They help them expand and think. I need them too.

In the end, I am not sure any of it matters, but it matters to me right now. I am so young compared to the trees and the mountains, the earth and the sky, the sun and the universe. I do not understand the thinking behind creating me, let alone all the rest of you, but I am certain that it is reasonable to be in the moment. Anything else is overwhelming.

Once upon a time, there was a big ball of play dough. It was filled with feelings and thoughts, stories and other stuff and then it was divided into trees and people and dogs, and other stuff, but in the end, it was all part of the same big ball.