Day One Hundred and Seventy Four - The Beauty of Each Part

I once read a book, or tried to, by one of my favorite authors of all time and couldn't get through it because it... well it sucked. While still loving all of his other work, I could not, for the life of me, even bring myself to finish the book. But one part of it, for whatever reason, stuck with me. It was about a race of intelligent 'people' who looked very much like beavers and liked to sing very long songs and didn't have favorite anythings. Especially their very long songs. They never liked one part more than another because to them, each part was essential and brought something to the whole, creating it. To only prefer one part would be to ruin it in its entirety. I never once understood that concept until today. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VAkOhXIsI0

In case you were wondering, that is the song that taught it to me. There are no words so don't wait for them. Immerse yourself int he music because each part is so clearly expressing an emotion, each one links into the next, each one absolutely essential to the whole. And each part is wonderfully beautiful; delightful to the ear. 

And then it sort of hit me, that's really exactly what life is about. The lesson that every moment has its beauty because every moment is relevant to the whole of your story. You wouldn't be who you are if it wasn't for those three years of continual shit that forged you into someone stronger. You wouldn't be who you were if you didn't eventually get the victory you needed to pull you through. You wouldn't be who you are without your first great love, and losing it. You wouldn't be who you are without the giant mistake and everything you learned from it. You wouldn't be who you are without learning to trust your instincts. Every moment is its own note, and we don't always decide how the tune will go. But we do decide whether or not we see it for what it is. We do decide whether we let each moment define us, or whether we define each moment by our presence in it. 

Looking back, I am so thankful for everything that sucked, for every wrecking ball that smashed to shit everything I had worked so hard for, for the great finds in unexpected places, for all the soul searching and all incredible injustice of it all. I can see the beauty in it now, I can listen to it like a beautiful song. The struggle is just as necessary as the triumph. Because now it has ceased, and I remain. Humbled by all that has been, and all that will be. Because if the crap can be this beautiful, holy heaven the dawn must be spectacular.

As a sort of final thought, I think it has a lot to do with learning to ride out the waves. When you're not gritting your teeth and fighting tooth and nail, but letting Someone Else do the work for you, and simply waiting for victory, it's a lot easier to be aware of what is going on around you during each wave. It is easier to see the bigger picture. It is easier to see where you've been, and where you are going. It's easier to keep sight of why you always knew it was worth it. It was easier to see some sort of plan in it all. 

And when you can see the beauty in each part, in the good and the bad alike, that is the moment hope becomes unshakable.