“To be alive at all is to have scars.” – John Steinbeck
When we’re young – hosting pretend tea parties for your family or putting on plays with the neighborhood kids as a cast – we rarely contemplate the future or the realities that eventually plague our lives.
We’re too busy enjoying life and the innocence and freedom which often comes along with being a child. There are times I truly miss those days.
I can still feel the rush of a warm breeze upon my face as I sped down the hilltop of my block atop my Huffy bicycle. I could do that over and over again and never get bored.
I remember spending hours in my backyard with my toy tractors and dump trucks – digging holes and relocating large rocks as though I were preparing a job site for construction.
But our childhood doesn’t last forever (no matter what Peter Pan might say). Eventually we’re faced with bullies on the playground, the difficulties of loving relationships, illness and even death. It’s enough to leave a bad taste in one’s mouth – creating a jaded sense of the world we inhabit.
Ovid, a Roman poet, once remarked, “Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.”
And indeed it will.
The scars of life represent invaluable lessons. They’re meaningful, inspiring and sometimes haunting lessons, which allow us to better form relationships and acknowledge the life we want to live.
It’s easy to allow those scars to define us. But I choose to look at them as markers along the journey – reminders not to take the same road again and instead to keep on living and moving and learning until you find the destination which will bring you joy.
