The Call. Part 3.

Warm salt air, a gentle breeze, and the slowly brightening sky ... along with the racous cry of gulls who could possibly wake the dead, rouse me early Sunday morning. Stepping out of the tent and the sunrise has lit a glorious panorama of clouds.... and my can of Jolt is tolerably cold, so I sit there and watch the sunrise and listen to the slowly waking city and all the life around me.
I'm in no mood to argue with what was seen last night, and would much rather forget it all ever happened to begin with. My demons are my own... but a realization struck. Yes, while they are my own, they are to be dealt with on my own terms. Not theirs. I've faced them... every single one.. and overcome them. Each time I have been told that I CAN'T do something, each time I came to the point where I could bend no more, I have won.
Yes. I am a changeling. A wanderer. Years of wandering on my own, a childhood of roaming the back hills of Oklahoma and the back woods of deep East Texas. Years of before I met my first husband and would wander with friends, taking them to places they had never seen before... or just wandering on my own. The call to wander is deeper in me than people know. Finding myself in Arkansas, once of spending a day wandering those back roads in SW Oklahoma, to pull into a town and find myself in Amarillo. My passion is in the new, the unexplored. My heart sings at the thought of something new to learn... no matter what it may be. As such, my education in life has not been without knocks and bruises... and a few things broken... but they will always mend. Life is all those things put together. All the pleasures, the passion, the rage, the pain. Driving all night to rescue a friend from a bad situation.. being in that same situation myself years before and knowing nobody WOULD rescue me... and knowing how much it means.
Time after time, we come across people who choose to be negative. They choose their outlook on life, and never grow from it. Never grow past the pain and the hurt to enjoy the simple fact of being alive. We have a choice. We can allow ourselves to be wrapped up in the negativity, in the need to be a victim, to be angry or afraid, or to live. To simply enjoy what we have in front of us now. To enjoy the simple pleasure in a cool glass of water.
When we add the book that was our life to the great library, what will it say? What was your experience? When you're sitting there in that rocking chair in the old folks home, what stories will you tell to the young people who visit?

As for myself, I will say I lived a full life. I saw. I did. And I ENJOYED IT!

Life is for living. Come, See!