A Fistful of Glitter

      
‘Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?’

-Pink (Glitter in the air)

When was the last time you picked up a dandelion and blew on the small wisps of white, watching as they danced away into the wind? 

Or, perhaps, pulled up a couple of blades of grass and threw them up, watching as they fell back to the earth, sprinkled in the air like little strands of confetti?

 How about picking up a fistful of glitter and watching it plummet, forming an auspicious cloud of color that surrounded your very being with a sense of awe.

You don’t remember.

Well, neither do I.

I guess those days of innocence that could be seen so clearly through the eyes of the child that once was, have now turned to clouds of dust. 

“I wish I was Peter Pan.”

The words were whispered quietly with an air of diffidence, filling the meadow with a rather hopeful breath.

Hopeful, like the thought of remaining in that moment- at a standstill without an ounce of concern for the future and remembrance of the past. 

Just the present.

Only the present.

It is said to be a gift, after all.

Trust.

It’s not something that prevails much in society these days.

Trust in one’s self is even rarer.

Why is that?

Trust is said to be the foundation of any relationship in the long run, isn’t it?

Just ask those little children staring out the window at a barren tree swaying in the cold Winter breeze.  I’m pretty sure that they’ll tell you that that brown bark is the most beautiful being in the world.    

“It is the home of the fairies after all,” they’ll say as you wonder how in the world they could trust the words of a person that had quite literally put an idea into their little heads.

What we don’t seem to realize is that they trust because they can.

The trust is their choice. 

Not yours. 

Not mine. 

But theirs.

Sometimes we could learn more from looking at that innocent child within us rather than the mature adult.

Sometimes it is the mature adult that holds us back and the innocent child that pushes us forward.

In the end, you always go back to the people that were there in the beginning, after all.

    

“I want to live in the now.

I’m tired of looking for a future that might never be. 

 I’m tired of thinking of a past that once was.

 I want to be like the stars.  Not completely eternal in existence, yet, living a life too long to really think about the small parts.

Yet, life is too short not to remember the small parts, isn’t it? 

And for that I must be eternally grateful.

For, what is life without an ending point?

What is life without living it in the most blissful ways possible, at least as long as it lasts?”

That is what he thinks as he swiftly drags a hand through the long strands of grass.

His thoughts are loud and clear in the stark night.

Much like a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounds him.

This sea of stars is so blinding. 

And yet, their beauty knows no bounds.

We look and yet we cannot see.

Perhaps that is because we are too afraid to look at something that may hurt our eyes.

Take a chance.

Take a risk.

Why not try to see the world for its truth instead of its lies?

Lies which we ourselves formulate in order to keep a safety net right under our feet. 

The dandelions outside are meant to be wished upon.

The grass is meant to be greener when thrown into the air.

The glitter dropped by clumsy hands is meant to be stared at in awe.

You knew that as a child.

Why not try it out now as an adult?

‘I want to take a chance,’ he tells her when she asks him what his life is all about.  ‘I want to look death in the face, and say ‘you don’t scare me anymore.’  I want to breathe, and smile, and laugh and cry without wondering whether I’ll be breathing, laughing, smiling and crying tomorrow.  I want to wake up every day and take in this beautiful world for what it is, not for what it was or what it is going to be. 

In simple English, I don’t want to watch the sand in that hourglass suddenly come to a halt whenever my time is up.  I’d rather open that hourglass up, fill it with glitter and flip it upside down, just to watch those small clouds of sparkle fill its confines while I watch in awe.  And then, when those small granules of time, love and life finally settle down, I’ll leave this world with a smile.  Because at least I know I’ve done one thing right.”

Smile.

It’s good for you.

What you’ve accomplished today is what matters.

Today, you have put a smile on a strangers face by just giving them your words.

‘Hello,’ you might have said or,’ How do you do?’

Remember, it was not the words that made a difference.

It was you.

Your presence.

Your choices.

You.

She smiles back at him, nodding her head in thought.

Her hands search for something in one of the drawers of her desk, pulling out a small packet of glitter. 

She grasps the large wooden hourglass seated atop the mahogany, emptying its contents onto the table and slowly fills it up with the small granules of sparkle. 

Two pairs of eyes gaze in awe as she flips the hourglass upside down, and then watch as small buffets of glitter fill its glass confines.

Today, you made a difference by being different.

Today, you made a difference by being the difference.