Yes there is Santa Claus, and the yellow brick road,
Tinker Bell, John Carter, Lazarus Long and Alice.
The Wicked Witch, monsters under the bed, and things that go bump in the night.
There are beautiful sunrises, sunsets and a million or so wonderful stars in the velvet black background of a summer night.
There are storms and tempest, hurricanes and foam lashed waves.
There is love, hate, peace, wars, affluence and street people.
There is sharing, giving, envy, greed, happiness and despair
There are no single planes we stay on.
Life, a vast crucible forming what we are.
We go back into this crucible over and over again
Leeching out impurities which fight the final tempering.
A master swordsmith does not form his blade in a single draw.
Nor so is our life formed from one seasoning.
It is hard to understand why things happen, and we ask, why me?
Not just once but probably many times.
We use the very human emotions of envy and want, and feel sorry for ones lot in life.
It is easier to succumb than to overcome.
If we take what life hands us back into the crucible each time
Separating the bad from the good particles,
we are stronger for each emergence.
The pettiness of life sloughed off like old skin
Skimmed away from the strength of understanding our selves
Each experience in life can shrivel or strengthen until the next experience, which will come.
I hesitate to say that life is a continuous battle.
As in all things, there is peace between the wars.
However, each war is better fought if we are stronger at the start of each conflict,
until finally it seems more of a brief skirmish instead of a major war.
Inner strength has always been better than physical strength.
Take the time to have tea with Alice, walk the yellow brick road with Dorothy and ToTo,
fly with Peter Pan and visit the twin towers of Helium on Barsoom.
Smell the roses and visit the zoo. Look at the stars or walk in the rain.
Play with a kitten or talk to the aged.
Love life and play the game because it has always been a game, but who wants to be a pawn? Accept what is given to your lot in life; then temper it to your advantage.
We can not change what we are, but we can control what we become.
The sirens of Odysseus are no less dangerous then thoughts of what we can not change.
It is all so easy to fall into the pits of despair,
but the edge of the pit is always there and the yellow brick road leads from that edge.
Away from the things that go bump in the night.