Sunday Morning Musing Over Coffee

5 May


This week it was brought to my attention ( again ) that my habit of giving the world my opinion can in fact be a little harsh. I have been aware of this, but the filter that naturally exists in others is a bit broken in my brain. I have a need to work through my ideas verbally; on Facebook this can cost one family members.

This weeks events reminded me about my trip to Morocco with my son. David and I spent two of our three months on the beach combing it for sea shells and little critters that thrill little boys. I found something that I hold with me to this day.

I have always been a highly sensitive person, without that heightened sensitivity for others, and I also had trouble regulating my moods. I am often depressed. The following is what I was pondering as I combed the beaches of Mohamadia with my son.


Before I left for Morocco, one of the perplexing questions that would keep me wake at night was this: will I ever be happy? If happiness is too much to ask for, would I at least every be less jaded? For a long time my days have been shadowed and sometimes completely consumed by a sense of brokenness.

One of my favorite professors once commented in passing that hurt people, hurt people .

After pondering this, I have sometimes wondered, when will this madness stop? When will I be whole again? When will I cease being the hurt person hurting people??  My family, my friends and my babies??

   I was pondering this as I walked along the beach every morning with David looking for sea critters and shells. This last week I found pieces of mysterious sea glass. Pieces of opaque, amber and green pebbles that tempted me to pick them up, pocket them and take them home. My imagination ran ahead of me thinking about how I would make picture frames, votives and jewelry for my daughters. These pretty little gems are limited only by creativity and imagination!

 What are these little pieces of sand that captured my eye?

 Broken Glass.

 Shards of bottles discarded by drunks in the middle of the night, smashed on the rocks, cutting innocent passers-by in sandels and bare feet. Broken shards of glass, heated by the sun, caressed by the wind and water and washed by the sand. Time passed, taking carelessness and trash, transforming something that had been discarded and broken into harmless little treasures ready to gift to loved ones and bring joy to whoever touches them.

As I took time to sit in the sun and put my feet in the sand, I felt a ray of hope. As I picked up my little treasures and arranged them in my hands, I felt a hope that my time here would render me a bit less harsh than when I had arrived in Morocco, and transform me into a softer person for my arrival back to the States.

   I hope that my broken edges will be sanded smooth so someday I can be touched without harming and I will bring joy and beauty to the home fate places me into.

So, this week I took that lesson ( after I lost a family member ) and softened my image a bit. I took down and disengaged from highly charged sites that I indulged in, and took a second look at how to express myself without cutting anyone.

Just to be clear; I am not apologizing for being a bleeding heart of a liberal, I am just saying that I will no longer call my conservative friends and family mean 😉


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