Not with what, but how.

Such horrid days with better ways, as the heart then surely stays. The constant way throughout this life, with agonizing, constant strife. Life, is a repetition of sorrowful moments, isn’t it? The times and seasons where the sun shines all the clearer throughout the days passing, and yet a shrouded veil seems over the heavens, and the storms of life tend to toss back, to and fro, while hope tries defiantly to burn as a lamppost despite the downpour of the rain. The very shadows of the nightfall seem to intrude upon the suns portion in the sky, and the darkness that lingers in the hearts of all free folk, slave or free, I or thee, man or woman, adult or child, dwelling in the city or journeying in the wild, either settling or in the midst of trial. The wilderness territory, has that effect, doesn’t it? That feeling of pursuing adventurous deeds or accepting perilous quests we have yet to undertake, and yet, we struggle and wrestle with enduring as time goes by. Yet, I have been blessed to both receive and perceive in the midst of tribulations and in the center of the raging storm is this: It is not whether we should or should not endure trying times, but rather, how we choose to respond in the midst of conflict is what defines the tale that will be told, the songs yet to be sung, and the accounts of what took place. The storm is not the problem: our attitudes are. This was what I thought about, as I drove towards work.

The sunlights reached gave a gentle caress as I walked out of my car, and took out the keys of the engine. My hands came upon my face, as I gave a prolonged sigh. “This is going to go well, I am sure!” I thought out loud.

I walked outside of the parking lot as my eyes met with the building I was going towards. “Acne studios,” it said. I gave a brief sigh, as I began walking towards the building. A woman with red hair and blue eyes came out the sliding door, and gave a slight smile. “Hey Johnny! Have you heard what happened to Bob?” She asked. I shrugged. “No Allie! What about Bob?” I replied. “He became so annoyed that he finally lost control and gave up! Sad, isn’t it? He was so close to getting a promotion from what I heard!” Allie responded. I gave a bit of sigh. Bob worked extremely hard, and he was good at what he did. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was as an animator. “That’s, a real shame! I was hoping we would both do well!” I replied. “Well, have a great day, Johnny!” Allie replied. “Thanks Allie!” I responded.

I walked through the sliding door and punched my card near the right side going down the hallway besides the front desk. I walked five doors from my left side, took my keys out, and opened my office door. I placed my briefcase down and sat near my desk, and thought about what happened to Bob. “Bob was an amazing writer and cartoonist. If he fell short and couldn’t overcome the pressure, how could I?” I thought to myself. I sat there thinking about what needed to be done, but then I remembered what I thought about in the car. “The storm is not the problem, our attitudes are,” I replied. An idea suddenly came to me, and soon, the work began to flow. “In a day of age of young and aspiring artists, there are many who confine their creative process, to the circumstances that they are in, rather then pouring their hearts into what they do, regardless of how much or how little they have to work with. Many artists wait in line to audition for some grand show, or want a celebrity to notice them, without considering how they can be creative, to gain the attention for the work they strive for. It is not the circumstances we are in that should define our creative process, nor the quality of material we have to start out with, to build something that will last. True art, true creativity is poured out and flows from the heart, from the spirit, from the soul. True creativity, flows through and shines all the clearer, no matter the storms we may face.”

I gave a smile, and place the pen down on my desk. “Sometimes, it’s not about what we don’t have that will makes us who we are called to be. It’s how we work with what we’ve been given and improve upon our ability to use or endure through it, that will define the quality of our success,” I said out loud. I smiled with a slight tear in my eye.

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