A Walk and Some Thoughts

No poem today. Just some thoughts

About 2 weeks ago, I was walking home down the street when I saw a tree. Or rather, a tree with one of its branches broken off.

What really got me then was that from that broken limb a fresh branch was growing, all green and tender, flush with life.

I just had to take a picture and post it up. I thought it was really...deep. Meaningful. At that time, at least.

A few days after I posted it up, a friend visited me. He said that he recently went through my gallery, and couldn't understand the significance of the picture. To quote: "Its something you see everyday. You act like it has some great big meaning behind it." He went on about my gallery and such, and how I should start cleaning it up.

I went home and deleted the pict.

I thought I left that incident far behind. It really was a blow somewhat, to my views. I began to doubt whether anything I did was worthy, whether other people appreciated my efforts and work.

It made me rather depressed for a week.

Not that it was that guy's fault. This was just one of many incidents that I saw. This one just metaphorically "pushed me over the edge" so to speak.

Today I went out for a walk after our reunion dinner. Very good one it was (the dinner and the walk). Along the way, I contemplated revisiting the tree. Somehow the image kept coming to me. But it wasn't meaningful or interesting at all. Right?

But it wasn't.

Somehow, then, I realised it didn't really matter. People appreciated different things, and like different objects. What mattered was not that others like it. It was whether it meant anything to me.

If it did, it was meaningful.

After all, while my friend had probably seen hundreds of regrowing trees, this was the first I seen. And while he might not think much of it, somehow the sight of a regrowing limb sparked a...sense of hope in me. It made me think of phoenixes. And ashes.

Like, you know, ups and downs of life?

I might not be much of an artist or writer. But I really like the world. Life and such. Despite what a lot of people say, I still find it beautiful. And while I might not have experienced suffering or pain on the same level as the imporvished, sick, or handicapped, I still like to try to think on the positive side. To see the beauty in everything, and the respect it deserves.

I'll never be as poor as the homeless men, as weak as the old (at least, for now). I'll never be as rich as the wealth or as strong as the atheletes.

But neither can they see the world as I do.

My view may or may not be special. For all I know, everyone sees the world the same way. Everyone looks and sighs at the beauty. In which that case, everyone would agree with this statement, and all would be well.

If no one likes it, then I can take comfort in the few who do, and that I, at least, like the world.

Call me naive, but I can't help feeling life was meant to be enjoyed.

So i'll take pain, I'll take suffering. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna shun Joy and Love. Nay, I'm gonna try for that too, to savor life to its fullest, bitter gourds and all.

They say you can't have the best of both worlds. I say you just need bigger hands.

Happy Chinese New Year guys.

Nite.