This I Believe
I believe in sharpness.
I believe in pointy-ended crayons. When I open a box of new crayons and see them standing at attention like a rainbow of soldiers, I know that they will inspire me to do my best to stay within the lines. I also know that green cows and purple grass will be quite okay with them and that they will feel proud if I abandon lines altogether and create a work of art from blankness.
I believe in scissors that quickly slice through fabric with a satisfying sound. As I guide them around a tissue paper pattern of someone else’s making, the rhythm assures me that we are creating something of value. If I change or abandon the pattern, the rhythmic sound continues on and I know that together the scissors and I are beginning the creation of something that will be uniquely mine.
I believe in the sudden tang of lime. I treasure the pleasant sting of a margarita while watching the sun go down on a desert landscape; the sight of a slice jauntily flagging the top of my beer bottle while I munch on chips and guacamole. Key Lime pie shared with friends any time of day tingles my taste buds and brightens my outlook on life. A squeeze of lime or a gentle scrape of its skin can add zest to any dish I create.
I believe in keen minds. I love watching children who, while examining something new, thrust heads forward and wrinkle their faces. They demand answers that make sense to them, even when I can barely make sense of that thing myself. I treasure the elders who, though no longer quick on their feet, enthusiastically ask questions, ponder answers and give me insights that only their wisdom can supply.
I believe in definition of spirit. Soft edges and grayness may be necessary for pleasant human interaction, but without a clear delineation of what I stand for and boundaries beyond which I cannot go, my spirit ceases to be mine and simply blends into others. I cannot be what I truly want to be if I allow my edges to become compliant, bending with the whims of others.
I believe that sharpness is essential for my being who I am.
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