Life … is but an endless journey of joys and sorrows. A search for finding meaning in an apparent tirade of happiness and loneliness through crests and troughs, of holding on to what it teaches us even with both our knees bruised and our hearts crushed.
Itis a perennial journey- an eternal search of living, dying, and rebirth, and with that rebirthing process entails a new life to blossom; a new life that seeks for joy, for peace, for fulfillment. And so does come an equally difficult moment of withstanding the complexities and struggles of being able to outwin this battle, in order to live.
I have likened myself to a pygmy because apparently I am, though not referring to the physical sense of the word but more of my emotional and social standing. My being a pygmy, is a modifier I use to denote how I think myself as a social individual amidst the bustling egos and colorful personalities of this era. I am “What” and “Who” I am: small in stature at 5 feet flat (will then, would this qualify me physically as a pygmy? I hope not, but if it does, so be it), unemployed (though still making a living in the best way, I believe I could), unsociable (since this is how I was brought up, though not to mean I am a misanthrope because I love life!), have a deep belief on my faith that sometimes exposes me to the harshness of those who doesn’t believe in any, and who believes in the core value of humility, as it is ” the virtue of all the virtues” (St. Francis of Assisi).
I do not see any wrong in thinking myself as small. My being small makes me look closely and persistently at the larger perspective of things, and of life- mine and that of my fellow passersby.