Sweet Fruits of Freedom
Better than My Best-Part 2 of Infinity
Better than my best is to let go of the rest. Drop them like chewed cores in the ditch. As an apple tastes sweet it’s good to let the seeds drop by my feet so that new branches may grow here some day for others to enjoy and nourish themselves with. Or, since apples could have somewhat of a bad biblical wrap, I could say a peach and a pit, would give the same, if not sweeter, results.
Feeling that the old will somehow transform along with me has been one of the heavy drags keeping me, at times, from advancing towards the new feelings I ponder upon. To ponder, to sit with an idea and see if it fits. Best I have now found, to simply let the old slip away and give them not a thought on this shiny new day. After all, I need strong fresh energy to power the requirements of the vast ideas of a clear free life that I now dream of every moment of each unknown space where I get to replace the old with any new ‘new’ I may choose.
There are past people and past moments, thrown together like the long-lost echoes of a gathering once enjoyed, but now seems like a haunted movie replaying in a darkened theatre, hands full of sticky treats lost with the sticky feet, that come from the spilled promises of what once seemed like good ideas.
I think of the candies and the sodas I used to enjoy, as my teeth still complain to this very day of my past digressions, regressions, in the lack of healthy choices I used to make for myself. My mouth tells the tale, and not only in words, but in the missing spaces from abuse, self administered, in the tricky hidden forms of colourful baked treats and cartoon characters selling sugar as food, all the while poisoning my mind and mood. I made it out of childhood, barely alive, out from under the mountain of sugar where I used to live.
Alas, I am no longer a child of perceived limited choice and wisdom, but a being grown on the hard times and abundant fertilizer offered in this society of sickness and slavery. And so, how could I not fail and fail again, when freedom is somehow desired through this offered maze of insanity. We have no choice, at least I had and still have no choice, but to do better than my best. Failure fuels my next choice, better and stronger than the previous, when I’m seeing clearly and choosing wisely.
No one, certainly not me, has all the ‘final’ answers to this final test, if we did, well… no reason to be alive to strive past the winks and misdirection of the monsters posing as helpers that we all meet in our day to day daze. Anything, I have found, offered as easy, is anything but. All the best fruits grow in the top branches nearest the sun, where sweet winds and nourishing rains may reach and wash and allow only those with wings to enjoy. We all envy, at least I did, the birds for their freedom. Any locked in a cage will probably tell you, the freedom inspired by the soft woosh heard by the passing of wings, if you’ve ever had that moment, when a large crow or stork or better yet and eagle flies close enough for you to hear the sharp cut of their passing through the air. For me dreams of following always came in that very same moment.
I can sit now, under a tree and watch my new dreams soar with these ideas of wonder. These I no longer feel envy, well not much anyways, for the birds and their flight, knowing they are not bragging about something I cannot do, but inviting me to join them in my way. To Figure out how I too can fly and go beyond any limitations of the I.
What does then better than your best mean? I would say it is the very definition of growth, in that from one moment to the next, if efforts are authentic, we can all do better, in whatever ways we happen to choose, that our previous attempts. I laugh with the old oaks at the old folks that say, nothing you can do, you diminish with age. Trees have shown me, strength and wisdom and a beauty of time spent in healthy growth can by yours if you choose to spend such time wisely. Not by indulging in the ‘flavour of the month’, but by accepting the challenges of the moment. The call to your Happy Destiny, the desires any heart can feel to soar in mystery towards whatever is, has been always, waiting for us to wake up and claim.
For me, it’s my deliverance, self-deliverance to a life of freedom without any limitations. And so, I have had, and still have, no choice but to do better than my best until my final breath. Mistakes are but hints on how to accomplish that. And now I see, better than a pocket full of offered gold to allow yourself to be sold about any limitations. We have, well, I have none except perhaps my limited new patience with myself when I fail to remember, always recall, my life is up to me to rise or fall.
With much love lorenzo
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