And so, this past week I've been reminiscing about memories, and I have to admit it has made me awfully nostalgic at times. How does time fly by so fast? Is it really necessary for it to do so? And if it must rush, then why can't it choose more opportune moments such as a long, boring lecture or when being stuck in an endless traffic jam?
The other day Tyler and I took all the old, broken crayons we have and melted them together to make new "rainbow" crayons. We had fun finding them around the house, tearing the paper wrappers off, breaking them into small pieces and then arranging them on baking trays.
The first couple of crayons melted together--and since they were dominated by dark colors--turned into black, lumpy and undesirable masses.
|(You can see the "black" crayons that resemble a really badly burnt cookie towards the bottom)|
The next batch turned out better. The mix of colors made them fun and unique. Dark colors were present all over but the bright spots made their presence known, and in fact, because of the dark colors they were even brighter. Isn't the metaphor just shouting to be named?
It's kind of like life... :)
And in the end the memories do mould together, and it is essential for us not to let the darker moments overtake and overshadow the immense beauty waiting to be seen in the overall picture of our lived days. Time does rush by, we can't stop it or control it. However, we can choose to allow the memories of our brightest moments to be seen most vividly from among the batch that we hold onto, and learn from those darker patches: recognizing that it is often the contrast that allows us to live more fully, understand more clearly, and ultimately learn to love more deeply.
This is my birthday wish for my son on the eve of his 4th birthday: that he may embrace both the bright and dark colored seasons in his life and see it as a work of art, ever changing, ever learning and ever so beautiful.
A few other (famous) thoughts on the dark and light:
― Anne Frank
― Patrick Overton, The leaning tree: [poems]