I have been looking back at my life recently and began to see that my life has been like a big wall. Grounded, and in the early days that wall had the potential to become the wall of an office building to achieving success in business; a wall of a home, a structure of nurturing & safety; a wall in a place of worship reflecting spirituality. That wall was blank with the potential of being built into so much.

Over the years the people I have encountered have put their mark on the wall, leaving graffiti.  The wall has names painted on it, initials carved into it, cracks in the plaster.  Some of the paint is faded from time, some paint dripped down the side.  The facade of the wall is caked with life experiences, people and places.  Its hard to even see what the wall was originally, what its intent was.  Like a spray painted subway car, my life and wall have evolved into a montage of other peoples art on my canvas.  I wonder how I had let that happen.  Like any graffiti, some of it is good, creative, and inspiring and some of it is ugly, distasteful and depreciating.

While searching for something deep inside I started peeling off the layers of paint, scrubbing off the dirt and dust of the years, and scratched below the surface to see what was underneath.  What I found was the same foundation of dreams, aspirations, ambitions, core beliefs and principles.  They had not be lost amongst the Jackson Pollock-like splatter of the whos’ who of whose been here.

In my excitement of seeing that my true self still exists I am empowered to apply fresh paint to my wall of life.  The new paint accents my convictions and truths, enhancing the beauty of the work done by others, but removing the old, unloving defacements. I feel a sense of renovation, renewal and inspiration.  Preparing myself to stand strong again to the elements of this lifetime.