“And this above all, to thine own self be true…”
But when the window that shows one clearly to oneself reveals the dullness beyond the panes, Windex doesn’t help as the clouded image truly lies without the borders of the frame.
My biggest fear, or at least the element that causes most distress and introspection, is the feeling of ignorance that had every chance to be overcome, and yet is naught but (remember, this post involves Shakespeare, so I can “voice” this way) fraught with dragons guarding memory banks. With family history graphing out my plot of life perhaps–a loss of mind in staggered stages–my fear is real. Yet is it that or simply lack of effort? Lack of the dedication that had always seen me to the clues and keys to reach the hidden doors?
Learning is a humbling experience. Learning especially, it seems, about oneself.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
You know what I say?
Introspection introschmection!
Jason }:)
It wakes us up when we realize what we can’t deny. Yet, even then, I have hope.
Keep exercising that part of you that reaches towards the genetic history. Defy statistics.
They’re only numbers on a page. Surely by now, you know the numbers sometimes make no sense.