With the flood comes cleansing. The rescue team returned to make sure everything was good to go. Cleaned the mud. Soaked up the water. Removed the debris. Readying the habitat for reentry. It's a blessing to have such wonderful people to help out.
However, all was not fine and dandy. Things are quickly forgotten in the light of near tragedy. Dreams were still dreamt, thoughts were still thought, but do we remember those? Do we recall what we were doing before the flood? Can we picture what we were thinking about before the water rushed in? I can, but that's because it happened just yesterday.
Today was a new day. I stepped out into the world to see the sun shining down. Time to get things done. Time to step forward into the world and make like nothing happened. Keep your head up high and cross things off your to-do list—that's the mentality that keeps the world turning, the to-do list.
I still remember what I was thinking about.
I still remember what I was feeling.
I still remember that there are struggles going on in the world far greater than mine.
However, in this moment; in this place; at this time… I matter. I am important. I am a person to.
There are times when I forget this—that I matter.
The point of my life is not to constantly be a service to others. I have a life to live, I have things to cross off my list too. I can't always be called upon to be the helping hand, even though I would like to be. There was an interesting thought that has burdened me since the flood, and it went something like this:
If the roles were reversed, would they stick it out for you?
If I were in their position, and they were in mine, how long would they stay? How long would they keep fighting for/with me? How long would they put their life, their dreams, and their desires on hold to be of service to me? I don't know, and chances are I will never know. However, it has been a difficult thing to swallow, especially considering I feel as if the answer to all of these questions is not very long. I have been in service to others my whole life. I am willing to put things down to lend a hand. I am willing to sacrifice time, money, food and sweat to help a person in need. It has been drilled into my soul from my parents and my understanding of what's wrong with the world. However, how much is too much? When do I do what makes me happy? When is it my turn to call on other people for help? When is it their turn to sacrifice for me? Probably never.
Not everybody has the right mentality to help other people.
Not everybody has the right outlook on life to find peace in sacrifice.
I know people have sacrificed for me, went to bat for me, and stuck their necks out for me. For those people I say, "Thank-you!" I know I don't ask for help very often, but I do appreciate it when it is there. You know who you are, and you know what you did.
The flood hasn't changed anything. I still sit and ponder what it means to do what makes you happy. I am still searching for soul for what makes it go, for what strengthens it, what makes it cry out in joy. I want to be happy. I want to be successful. I want to be well rested. I want to be different.
I need to live for me.
I need to live for now.
I need to live for a brighter future.
The waters rose. The waters receded. The lasting effect will be unknown until some distant point in the future when we look back and either smile or cry. Only time will tell what this flood has truly meant… only time!
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