Words with Eyes

It was a
black and white
day...

and I was skipping around, making visits from one blog to another and my eyes glanced over to a profile quote and 'it' happened. The words glared at me with a sneer and sarcasm slapped me in the face with blinding force. "Think of life as a terminal illness, because if you do, you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be lived." ~ Anna Quindlen

Let me first say that I am not judging the person who chose this quote, so please find no offence in my analysis of these words. I honor the author and the point she is clearly stating; appreciate your life, don't take it for granted, live with passion. All wise words that we should allow our lives to emulate. What I am proposing, is how I was effected, at the moment of reading them.

The loveliness of the words disintegrated and the harsh reality did a number on my soul. Words like; terminal illness, incurable decease and unpredictable outcome, have this jolting affect that grab my attention as I gaze at any literature containing them. I am reading through a glass darkly and on this particular day was in a foul mood. I temporarily felt distaste towards the person who authored those words and mocked their meaning, that I felt were misunderstood. But, the beauty is in the first word of the quote, "Think."

Not to actually live with, but to think of, because to live with a terminal illness, joy and passion are privileges that one has to earn, work hard for and foster unnaturally. I cried angry tears at Ms. Quindlen's well meant words. They were not kind to me, did not offer me comfort and I couldn't nod my head with understanding wisdom. Instead they made me feel like a misunderstood child that received a harsh punishment for a crime that I did not commit. Yes, I often feel like a child, helpless and with an opinion that is to be seen and not heard. I cried and I turned away from the screen to hide my tears from the words. I animated them and let their squinting eyes penetrate the side of my face that still stung from their slap.

When the episode finished, it was I who turned back to them, forcing the authors intentional meaning to transform the disgruntled figure back into the wisdom of good advice. I wiped my tears and turned off my computer. I needed a moment to recover from the hard blow, needing some color to wash over my black and white day.