We all carry a picture
Some of these pictures are adorned with the likes of a fancy frame
Others, no frame at all
But each of us walks around dragging a picture behind us
A picture of what our life is supposed to look like
Painted diligently by the brush of our best intentions
It's a great secret
One of the deepest secrets of humanity
That in the end,
None of our lives turn out the way
We thought
Or imagined
And then
We get angry, confused, frustrated
We punch holes straight through our pictures
We tear them into shreds
We cry over the loss of our picture
But the truth is
No matter how carefully we pay attention to detail
No matter how long we spend
We can't paint our future stroke for stroke
We don't have that much power
As much as we sometimes wish to believe
Otherwise
Most of life is simply
A reaction to circumstances
Sometimes
The best thing we can do is
Destroy our picture
Start fresh
And paint
A new stroke
A new color
Each day
As we move and breath
And take what comes