Monday, April 4, 2011

I'll take the rose-colored spectacles, please

Showdown at high noon, originally uploaded by scrollwork.
Damn those glasses! They weren't rose-tinted enough for me.

Have you had enough reality for a while? Me too. I do the obligatory news scan online for a few minutes every morning, but that's it. The rest of my day, unless there's a global disaster, nothing is permitted to intrude on my equanimity.

It's a matter of survival: the survival of my delusion that all will be right with the world, and if it isn't, that I have a modicum of control over any part of the outcome. (I am not discounting prayer by any means! But it's still up to God, not me.)

If I don't subscribe to that outlook, how else could I go on stitching happily away at a frock to free it from its frumpy beginnings? How could I justify creating "art" that won't feed hungry children, only my vain, selfish soul? How could I have so much passion about teaching people to dance, to uncoil their inner springs and be surprised by how they can move?

I would be irrelevant to myself without my rose-tinted lenses. It would be a constant indictment of the hours spent blogging, photographing, dreaming, seeing what could be beyond what is.

But because I choose to keep those lenses firmly clapped over my eyes, I can take risks, make short-term sacrifices, air my shortcomings, stay the course, make peace with uncertainty, and love my spouse.

I can bear the garden's barrenness in winter, the shrunken pocketbook in lean times, the thickened waist in midlife.

I can choose what to build, what to grow, what to explore, never mind if the point isn't immediately apparent, if the checks aren't in the mail, if the blog comments are withheld.

I can finally stop seeking the counsel of others, and see in myself all the expertise I need for the task I've chosen for myself. And in this, I can be irreplaceable, no longer irrelevant.

Do you need rose-tinted glasses? Take mine; I have an extra pair.

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