Full life living
I love old things. Like a lot. Okay like a ridiculous amount. It’s just so hard for me to fall in love with anything that’s not been around and seen some life. I appreciate the dings and scratches. I appreciate how often the process of existing causes things to gain beauty instead of losing it.
I see people the same way. It’s hard for me to appreciate the value in a life not really lived. It just seems so hollow. Luckily, that’s not real in people. We all have our bumps and bruises. Sometimes we have physical scars, more often they are much deeper, hidden in traces of thoughts and pattens that repeat daily. Little idiosyncrasies that work their way out into the light and show the dynamics of the person you see.
They all tell stories. Some are stories of joys and celebration. Others of heart wrenching pain and sadness. Still others of hard lessons learned. All are about lives that have been lived well. You don’t get stories or scars by only showing up when there isn’t risk. You don’t learn what you are really made of until it’s tested. Living life fully means putting yourself out there, open to whatever may come, and knowing that in the end this life will be worth the story. You deserve that.