I read something about a month ago (and it has stuck with me) that was meant to be uplifting.
Positive.
It made me so sad.
A blogger was telling how positive and wonderful her life was. (sounds great, right?)
She told how happy she was. (what's wrong with that?)
She went on to explain why it was.
She filters.
Filters out everything except what is internal. What she wants. What she feels, desires, enjoys...
She filters out negative people. (ok, so that's not so bad.)
She avoids taking the time to notice bad things. (hmmm...)
She avoids others peoples pain, disappointment, and problems.
And she is happy.
That makes me sad.
It makes me sad that because she doesn't take notice of other people's pain she can't be a part of bringing them joy.
It makes me sad that because she only knows her own pain, and can't recognize it's paleness, she will never truly experience her own joy.
Her heart will never truly have the beauty of scars from understanding the pain of others.
She will never have the beauty that comes from pain.
True beauty.
Even on a dreary winter day like today there is something about the feeling of the forest that calls to me. Something about the sounds, colors, even the smells that fit just right.