Every little breath

As human beings we are so quick to reduce ourselves to absolutes, to black and white, to feast or famine, good and bad.

We think we know.  We think THEY know.  We all want to know . . . the absolute truth, the final answer, what will be.  Yet, time after time I have found all these things to be disproved.

I have a daughter who was labeled, "slow" in elementary school.  I, like many other people, equated that with very limited, unable to learn much, or, in old school terms, retarded, but it turns out she was merely slower.  She has kept learning all these years and now functions above many of the people I thought were "normal" at one time.

I think we are designed to survive -- even thrive.  We have two eyes, two hands, two legs, two lungs and the list goes on.  People who have lost the ability to do something one way often discover they can reroute their bodily processes to do it another way. 

I think it stands to reason that we can relearn or improve almost any part of our lives.  Believing there is only one of anything is a romantic notion that may not be any more truthful than some of the other truths I once believed in.  There are just different ways of being.

Although it may be more comfortable to stay with the old ways because transitions can be terrifying and difficult, it doesn't mean that is the only way, or only one, or only chance.

As long as we can draw a breath, there is hope.

That is important because none of us exist in a vacuum.  We are little parts of a huge pond where every little ripple and wave affects everyone and everything else in the pond.

It bears remembering that my thoughts and actions are worth taking seriously.  Each positive move I make improves things for all those I love and even those I do not.