How I got here
One night, as I was lying in my bed; reflecting upon the world around me, an idea hit me on top of the head. Well to be frank, a painting fell off of my wall and plummeted through the air until it collided with the entire left side of my face.
Did it hurt?
But really, it was my pride that took the biggest hit… I mean really, Sammie? You couldn’t properly hang up a damn painting?
Of course when this happened, I shot out of bed to swing at the culprit. But after flipping on the lights and grabbing hold of my trusty, feather bursting pillow; I did not find my suspected offender. Instead, I stood there, looking down upon the image of the most beautiful painting I had ever seen.
You might be thinking to yourself, “okay is this turning into some lurid fairytale story?”
And the answer is no. This is not a fairytale. I am just an ordinary girl who has had the privilege of expressing obliviousness throughout her life; until now.
As I stood over the edge of my bed, I stared down at this painting that has hung over my head for years; seeing it like it was the very first time.
This painting shows a field of dark green lily pads, completely covering the ground they lie on top of. And in this field of what looks like pure cold and wet darkness, is one single, absolutely breathtaking, white flower.
When you look at this flower, all you can see is the brightness of the painting. Even when you try to avert your eyes to look at the dark spaces of the picture, you can’t help but feel the light that this flower projects.
How had something so beautiful, gone for so long without being seen? How could I have been so oblivious as to not capture the grace and truth of this painting, every second that it has shared its presence in my life?
I started thinking to myself; what made that flower shine so bright?
And while an excessive amount of ideas bounced around my head that night, I landed on one final thought, and that was that this flower had tried.
This flower represented strength, discipline, and perseverance; and while it lived in a world of muck and shadows, it was its extra effort and tenacity that made this beautiful life form bloom.
As I began to drift off to sleep that night, I started to think, what if I was a little more like that flower?
I have always claimed to be a hard worker, and honestly, I thought that I was; but the truth is that I was a selective hard worker. When it either suited me, the activity was fun, or I was being observed, that was when I worked the hardest… But what about the rest of the time?
My parents are some of the most hardworking people that I know, but have they made my life so perfectly easy that I have never experienced the pressures that force strength, discipline, and perseverance out of a person?
Although I would never change anything – as I am unbelievably grateful for the position that they have put me in – is it possible that I have taken advantage of their hard work to a point where I have not felt the need to commit to this same work on my own?
Maybe if I decided to change my personal ethics, my school would become easier. Likewise, my jobs would become more enjoyable, my weight would become more manageable, my life would become more joyous, and maybe – just maybe – these damn paintings would stay on the damn walls that I nail them into.
So there is my truth,
My new beginning.
One chance hero in a world where nobody pays attention,
Will be the change in my story.
Will shape the way that I paint my own life,
And hopefully, will change the way that you have painted yours.