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We Are All Cracked Pots
Posted On 03-22-2009 , 3:46 PM
Dear Diary,
 Sometimes I just feel like a cracked pot; but then I remember the story of the two water pots. Here's how it goes:
Long ago and in a faraway place, a water bearer had two large pots. Each was hung on the end of a pole, which he carried across his back. One pot was perfect. The other had a crack in it. [That's me.]
At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot was only half full. The pot was very sad about his imperfection. [Sometime, you try doing a content page following all the rules.]
After two years, the pot spoke to the water bearer, saying he was a failure and ashamed that the crack allowed water to leak out all the way back to the house. [Me: Do I have enough keywords? The right ones? Too much product? Not enough? How about the format?]
The bearer said, "Did you notice that there are flowers only on your side of the path? That's because I have always known about your flaw. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path. And every day while we walk back from the stream, you have watered them. For two years, I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house." [Instructor to me: You can do it!]
The moral of this story is: Each of us has our own unique flaw. We're all cracked pots, but it's the cracks and flaws we have that make our lives interesting and rewarding. You have to take each person for who they are, look for the good in them, and help them recognize their strengths.
Message to my instructor: Thanks, Teach, for recognizing my strengths when I didn't.
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Ghosts of the Past
Posted On 01-24-2009 , 12:35 AM
Dear Diary,
.jpg) Valentine's Day is not far off and my thoughts are turning toward all things romantic – loves conquered and loves lost – all stored in the memory bank of time and available for withdrawing at a moments notice.
The nice thing about getting older is how the mind plays the little trick of exaggerating the good and forgetting the unpleasant in most cases. I mean Albert B. was never as exciting at the time as he seems to be now in the memory bank. And those that got dumped or rejected don't seem quite so bad in retrospect. As for Tony, he'll always be in the deficit column.
 So I live in the present and run across these little reminders that recall the past – I mean real little things like a heart shaped piece of candy with a message on it – FOREVER YOURS. Really? So where are you now? It's still forever where I live.
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