All Days End in “Why”

Why

It seems as if I find myself asking the question “why?” more and more these days. I have so many unanswered questions that I believe I may have grown accustomed to accepting “that’s just the way it is” or “no one knows” as answers, when before I would have never swallowed that down. Maybe it’s age that makes us begin to simply accept certain things in life, but I don’t believe it’s maturity. Time may teach us to stop asking the same questions over and over again, but what have we learned other than digression?

I know life doesn’t come with a manual that explains what to do when something goes awry, but wouldn’t it be great if it did? I don’t want life to be pre-written, or even to have a way around my mistakes I’ve made in the past, or the ones I’m bound to make in the future; I’d simply like a thorough explanation every once in a while.

We spend so much of our lives justifying our actions (even if it’s in our subconscious). We give celebratory gifts for milestones in our neighbors, cousins life because it’s expected. We attend events that we don’t care about because we need to make an appearance. We set career goals and strive for certain things because it’s ingrained in our culture to do better and better. The sad thing is, we rarely even question this out loud because we’ve already settled that score with our minds – it’s what we do. But, what about the times when we’ve done something and even though we vaguely recall the beginning of why we did it, we can’t seem to get to the end of why. What about when we make mistakes as adults – it’s like writing in pen. There’s no eraser to just wipe it away and correct it immediately. Why are we allowed to mess up in permanent marker? We’re human and we make mistakes – we were designed this way. We hurt each other, we trip over our own feet, we cry when we’re happy, we get confused and sometimes we just F*#k it up! We aren’t perfect and we know that we aren’t, yet we expect others to be. Why?

We hope and pray and cross our fingers that someone else in this world will love us even though we are flawed. And we believe that they will because, most of us, know we are good people who are out here doing our best at least 99% of the time. We know we’re trying to get it right – we wear our hearts on our sleeves and we smile through our fears and we fight our battles (some proudly, some silently) and we give it everything we’ve got. Yet, there are times that we find ourselves face down in the mud. We’re here and we know we’ve somehow gotten ourselves here, but we can’t quite recall how it seemed to be that the rain started when we were ten feet deep in a hole that we fell in by thinking we could jump over. Because that’s how it is – you see it coming and you think you can face it head on, so you build yourself up and you run and you gain strength and feel the wind on your face so you just let go and leap – and sometimes – you come crashing down. You land on your tush with a thud and you’re ok – it wasn’t what you wanted, but you’re ok. So you pick yourself up and you look at the climb you’ve got to make to get back to where you were and you’re ready to go, but then…the rain starts and you just can’t get out of the hole that you’re in. This is the way of life at times….but why? Why do we have to wait for it to dry out before we can gain our footing again?

I’m out of my hole now, but before me stands a huge mountain. I’m not afraid of the climb, but I hate having to do it alone. I hate it! I hate, hate, hate it! and then I laugh, because I don’t have that much hate in me to be consistent – I just want the hand that fits into mine to be there to hold it. I’m not asking for a hand-out, just a hand-hold. But here I am – climbing in the dark on my own and it hurts. So I swallow the pain down and put one foot in front of the other because what else am I going to do – give up?

As many “whys?” as I have now, I’m not turning around. There’s the promise of sunrise at the top of this mountain and I’m not going to miss it. I’ve a lot of ground to cover and time seems to be running short. This time, I’m leaving my questions here, by choice, and traveling light.

I have a heart full of love, a body of faith, a mind with a set path, and relentless will. I don’t need a pack of baggage. I know where I need to be.

Today may end in “y” – but there’s no question, only movement.

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