I side with the abundance of people who list reading as one of their favorite hobbies. Is it to escape the monotony of our own lives? Is it to be inspired, to cry, to laugh, to be someone else? I love it while I'm reading... but as soon as I turn the last page... I am overwhelmed with a terrible sense of disappointment and let down. Life as I have been experiencing it... through someone else's words... is over. How do I pick myself up and start again? I guess I better quick find another book to fill that void. So the process continues. Living through the story of another.
Lately, I've been asking myself something new. Why not live and love my own story? Why not savor every word of the story of self? This type of thinking takes work. You have to look past the perspective that there is nothing noteworthy about your "average day." We need to stop thinking that way. We have been given TODAY. Search it, live it, find in it the story that is waiting to be told and appreciated.
Don't let your own story rest abandoned on the shelf. Take it out, skim through the pages already written. Let yourself laugh, cry, cringe, blush. Find the inspiration in your own story. Embellish it by living to the fullest. If you don't like the way the chapter is unfolding, direct it elsewhere. Take a turn. Or, if you can't... hold yourself strong and wait for the next chapter that is guaranteed to come.
Your life is beautiful and your story is worthy of being told. Give it a chance. And though there are disappointments, they are yours to overcome... and there will always be another word, another chapter, another day.
