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The Weary Traveler
Happiness is a choice; we choose whether we see everyday as a miracle or a struggle. Our minds have the power to change a situation and make it into a lesson lived and learned, or we decide to make it a thorn in our side, forever giving us pain and discomfort.
For the most part, I agree. Life is full of decisions that change our being to either one of character and compassion or excuses. However for some situations there is no choice to be made. No decision that is left in our hands. Our control is placed in someone else’s and they don’t always make the best decisions.
Anyone can come back from a hardship. It is a single glitch in their lifetime. An event that may have even knocked them sideways, but most can realign their arrows; pick themselves up and dust off the grief, disappointment and frustration. They chose to be positive, and use it as a lesson lived and learned.
When they got knocked down however, they may have lost something in the kicked up dirt around them. Something small and minute, but something nonetheless. When they stand back up they know something is missing, but it’s as little as a paper clip so it won’t deter them from their future aspirations.
Then there are the hardships that aren’t finished after one trip. Some get kicked down, to stand up, to get kicked down again, to stand up, to then be shoved to the ground. Face pushed into the dirt, pockets emptied and scrapes and bruises left as souvenirs.
As they try to keep moving forward and stay positive; someone or something decides to push them down again. At certain points down the road, they are just focused about getting out and moving forward, that they start crawling, without any desire to pick up the items that may have fallen. The pain is too great to check the surrounding area for anything left behind; it is forgotten in the dirt. They move forward, hoping that tomorrow is better. They hope that they will soon travel in a less dangerous area.
It is during those times, when it is difficult to stay positive. The journey may last years. As soon as it seems like the road is less shaky and the area appears harmless; someone out of nowhere kicks you to your knees again.
After being hit down so often, all you want to do is stand back up. Move one more step forward; the hope of tomorrow becomes your battle cry and anthem. You firmly believe that the laws of positivity declare that you can choose to be happy or sad.
And when it is finally safe, the road is paved, marked and surrounded by beauty; only then do you realize what you left behind. Only then do you look back, into the dark wooded and tumultuous path that you just came off of, you then comprehend what you would have to go through in order to get those things back that you dropped along the way.
That is when you really make a choice, to return to the dangerous part of the road in order to pick up your mess, or to continue moving forward and hoping that what you dropped won’t be needed sometime later down the road.
People don’t become roughened, closed, and angry from one event. It’s those travelers that have been through more than one rough patch, those who have tried to move forward even when everything else was knocking them down.
© 2017 Elise Reed