If life was like a stack of paper which could be discarded when it is deemed imperfect and all that is needed is to start on a fresh paper, how many pieces of paper would one supposedly discard?
If one could choose to live life like a stack of paper, would you? I would. I would be tempted.
Life however, is not life without mistakes. In imperfection we learn perfection, therefore, perfection doesn’t exist without imperfection. The worry about making mistakes then? Should not actually be a fear, but a guideline of life - a fundament of being humane.
The irony is, at times, life does feel like a stack of papers. Circumstances decides when to discard; when to start afresh;when to stay still and when to be frantically drawing. At present, this is life for me. Somehow, I can’t seem to control it the way I use to.
It is now another beginning. Something I did not expect or rather was trying to run away from. Nevertheless, life has begun from scratch. All over again…
