"We are all a part of something. We are the bits and pieces of our experiences, and are the product of the people who have touched our lives. Like a patchwork quilt, life and its lessons become the intricate threads that are woven into the fabric of our very being."
We are all a part of something. We are the bits and pieces of our experiences, and are the product of the people who have touched our lives. Like a patchwork quilt, life and its lessons become the intricate threads that are woven into the fabric of our very being.
I see my parents in me in some ways, and in other ways I still seek to understand the lifeblood that runs through me. I used to think I was most like my father—inheriting his work ethic and strong will. I didn't see as much of my mother in me, though she is as resilient as any person I’ve ever met.
In one of my darkest times, I came to realize my father feels the struggles of others deeply, especially those of his children. I knew he was worried about me, but my mother told him not to be.
"She is like me," she said. "We fall to our knees, but we get back up again." That is when I realized I am more like her than I wanted to admit.
I believe we all go to the well. The well of self-reflection. The well of sorrow. The well of doubt, or dispair. The well of shame. Sometimes we fall on our knees and look into the well to find answers. Sometimes we fall down the well and must find our way out. Sometimes others follow us down, like an anchor, leaving us both there struggling. Some never find the well at all.
I've been to the well a thousand times. It is my place of introspection and healing. I see myself in its depths and it gives me the peace and strength I need to carry on.
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