Accepting the Absurd
I grew up in a mill town, 30 miles south of Boston. My mom and dad worked in shoe factories in my early years. Across the street from our apartment home was a four-story shoe factory converted into a chicken factory. I’m not sure how many chickens were in the factory at any given time, thousands, probably. In the summer, when it was hot, and the wind fresh from the south, the not so fragrant smell of chicken manure hung in the air so thick you could almost see it. Everyone in the apartments thought it was normal. No one ever complained. Smelling chicken manure was our everyday experience. That memory came back to me when I thought of about my blog. A childhood experience is teaching me an important lesson for where I am at in my dancing alone life.
What is the lesson? Don’t live across the street from a chicken factory, right? That a lesson for sure, but not the one I that came to mind. The lesson I learned was more like understanding how getting used to things is easy and often makes the absurd feel normal. If I get used to feeling sorry for myself it soon feels normal. I may want company and hang around with people who shared the same philosphy. Man, that kind of company I don’t need. Or, as my dad would say, “Ray, I need that like I need a hole in the head.” He frequently said that, honest.
I have another choice, I can wake up, realize I don’t have to be stuck in an emotionally or physically unhealthy place. I can declare, I choose to live. I choose to embrace life. I choose to be around people who are happy, optimistic, and see life as a wonderful God-give gift.
Live with hope.
Live with joy in your heart and song on your lips.
Never quit, never give up.
Down? Shake yourself off, rise, and going again.