“The glass is half full, not half empty!” These words ricochet in my mind, willing me to appreciate the blessings and the beauty that surround me. Our perceptive reality is critical in how we react to the pressures that we face. My glass is therefore not half empty but filled with glorious possibilities and infinite promises that tomorrow the sun will rise anew, only to sink below the horizon as the evening tides caress the shores. The hardship of our times cast shadows on sun-kissed dreams, occasionally abandoned when emptiness gains entrance. But resilience beckons, reminding me that I am the strength that I need. I am the inheritor of an inheritance which triumphed in the crossing and like the phoenix rose out of the quagmire of enslavement. I am the rebel in rebellion, a proud warrior sheathed in the inspiration that my creative abilities and strategies determine the outcome of my battle. I am that potential that my forebears struggled to suckle, to grow, to protect. I am the repository of untapped capabilities. You tell me my glass is half empty – what a cockeyed perception of my reality? I smile, a deep smile which permeates the chambers of hardships, for my hips will sway in celebratory dance, my feet will quicken to the musical rhythms and I will sing songs of joy, for my glass in time will overflow, after all it was just half full. |