Introspection... a good thing. Unless of course, like salt... you use too much...
The purpose of this blog is to give opportunity for you to see life's passing through my window. You may want to pull up a chair, or pull the shade. Your response is entirely up to you.
What makes my perspective unique? Well, each soul is unique, a special craft - fashioned by the almighty, created for a special purpose. My perspective - well... I must have a special room in God's mansion, for my perspective offers me views of live that are like no others.
I was born out of wedlock, a half breed to an addicted mother. There was no father. There were men.
I was adopted to a white family. An old fashioned mother, preacher father, and eleven siblings became my family when I was seven. I had already become worldwise. But, this new home offered a second chance at innocence.
I grew up with no televion in a generation that would be shaped by it. My shaping would have to come from somewhere else. Growing up in the forests of Northern Saskatchewan provided the perfect environment for the cleansing and preparing of a young soul. Many young souls.
I was seven when I moved from my biological family to my adoptive family. Seven years later, when I was only fourteen, I was ready to move out of my new home and into a boarding school that fostered my first attempts at independent spirituality. Seven more years, and I would find myself married with a child of my own. I hadn't been in an established home for a decade when I was creating a fledgling little family... a home of my very own. I would have a second, no... third chance at a parent/child relationship.
There was a time when I obsessed about my psychology. My make up. The mess up. The fix up. What a waste of time. My psyche didn't need fixing. Peddlers only offered excuses offered in pretty packages that promised so much more.
Introspection just pointed to where I was... but I am here. Where I was doesn't define me. Where I am and where I'm headed is all I need to know.
Don't be fooled by the peddlers. You don't do what you do because of the way you feel. You feel the way you feel because you do what you do. Chew on that.