I was hypnotized by this bag for a moment. I noticed how the wind pushed and pulled this bag about. Having no control over direction or altitude, it was entirely at the mercy of the wind. It was completely dominated by it's circumstances. This felt all too familiar to me.
This bag had been changed. At one point, the bag had purpose and value. The bag held things in tact. The bag secured items in tow. However the bag had been discarded somewhere along the way. The bag wasn't needed or wanted anymore. To the bag, it is still the same capable bag. Unfortunately, being thrown away somehow made it something less valuable. Its purpose was served for that moment only to be considered trash once used.
Those thoughts ran threw my head for quite some time. I could relate to what the bag was theoretically. I've lived far too long being tossed about through life...not really knowing where I would end up and not really knowing what purpose I served anymore. I've lived far too long only barely surviving one turbulent life situation to the next.
Out of the corner of my eye, something else appeared that brought me out of my daze. Soaring across the sky in perfect form and glide was a bird.
So many different thoughts came to mind when that bird entered my view. The same wind that tossed the bag around was the very same wind that this bird soared in. Unaffected in it's motion or destination, the bird seemingly split through the wind with ease. He glide along using the very wind to keep him moving forward and soaring at his desired altitude. His purpose wasn't dependent on anyone else's value system or scale.
I draw so many parallels to the bird and the bag. Today and for most of my adult life, I have felt like the bag. With no real direction and seemingly no control, I am at the mercy of life as to where I end up. I always thought I would be more like the bird though...my true desire. I pray to be able to withstand the wind (life) where I can still glide, soar, and maintain my own altitude on my way to my destiny.
Because of your limited view you missed the rest of the story of the bag. A woman walking down the street listening to some of her favorite beats while clearing the debris sidewalks down in her neighborhood happened to see the bag flying in the air. The woman pulled down her headphones off her ears so they could hang around her neck just to hear the bag flying. It was the most beautiful thing she had heard that day. The bag although damaged she couldn’t pull herself to just simply grab it and stuff it in her trash bag along with the other things she found, something was different about the bag and she was determined to figure it out. She finally went over to the bag that finally was snagged on a branch of a tree, took it and folded it with care as she stuffed it inside the pocket of her coat. She was done for the day and wanted to rush home to explore the new treasure in her pocket that she had found.
ReplyDeleteTo greet her at her door was her two sons, bored out their minds and wanted something to do before bedtime. She gave them a console to play with while she worked in her craft room on the bag. First, she soaked it in warm soapy water to clear away the dirt and stains. Not too long her sons come running in again bored out their minds wanting to see what their mother was up to and wanted to help do whatever she thought she was doing. She decided to let them play with the bag and help speed up the process of drying it out by pretending they was jumping out a plan with a parachute. The boys had a ball and by the time the bag would and dry they was on the floor with it fast asleep. After the woman tucked her boys into bed she started again working on the bag. She worked all night on it until she felt it was strong once again had a purpose.
The bag now on her hip everywhere she goes is wanted by many, but the bag just instantly disintegrates when others try to take the bag from her. No amount of money can add up to the value the bag is now to those that once before seeing it worthless and now priceless. It brought new meaning to one woman’s trash is another woman treasure. She saw beauty in something that was beaten and bruised. Now it doesn’t need her to shine it shines by itself.