What if there exists a sheep.
And that sheep has sadness.
Can you then say the sheep is sad?
Can you have sadness? Can you lose sadness? Where does it go to then? Does it then go home? Would sadness be sad to be alone? Is that the reason he keeps hanging around? James ponders.
How to deal when sadness covers you.
When tears make your fur wet and you loose your fluff.
James ponders about this. I am sad, he seems to say. I exist of nothing but sadness, he seems to say. When tears dry, it’s because they vaporate in the air that I breathe. I then inhale my tears. I am not just covered by sadness, but also filled with it, he seems to say.
Is he right? Are feelings real? Or do verbalisations of things just make for a truth you then start to believe and live in? Let me ask you this: Was it you who emptied your own walls? Did you close the blinds yourself? Wasn’t it your choice to be evermore motionless? Because if that is true…now WE ponder..
We could bring back light, because light is Always there. Open the blinds that you call eyes, and light is.
We could also start decorating your inner soul again. Because sadness is only one part of you. James heard something he never heard before. ‘Only a part?’
‘But.. which part then? Because all the cards are blue, and all cards are empty.’
Can’t you see all cards are also different, James? They have a different angle, a different position, they stick differently, they were put there in a different time. You only focus on what they have in common and that is color. Again: open your eyes.
And James trusted. And he started looking around. So much pieces of paper he suddenly saw! Some of them sticking better than others, some of them revealing shadow under them, they were so different, all of them. Every piece was different, because no piece is the same.
This is quite awesome, James thought, blue would not have been the color of my choice, but it sure is nice to have something on the walls of my square heart.
He started to look closer. It seemed as if every piece of blank paper wanted to have an identity. They were patiently waiting. Eagerly waiting. But waiting. Because if you don’t act, paper will just stay paper. Motionless.
Hmm.. I wish I could give you names, because you all are so special.
Saying Potamotrygorgeous with a question mark behind it is a full question in itself, so we provided James with what he could use.
Yes, it’s a pen, sweetie. And it’s for your use.
And suddenly sadness went home, wherever it lived. Because James was busy naming all the fragments that surrounded him.
The fragments couldn’t wait to be named. They were all so sweet, and tender, and loving, and accepting, and inspiring, and gentle, and comforting and warm, and above him, and behind him and in front of him, and and and and.
And and and, and they were true! Even without having names the cards spoke to James, they let him project all these nice things about himself onto paper.
And paper is patient. As long as you choose not to close the blinds again, they speak to you and tell you what more besides sad that you are.
Wieeeeeh what a nice way of looking up!
But.. eh.. Potamotrygorgeous?
I mean, I am king of my own house of cards, right?
Indeed you are, and with extra cards and a working pen you can always add more, because your beauty is never ending.. if you keep your eyes open you will always see more cards that want to stick around your place.
But.. what if sadness returns? What if the cards are not enough? That I will start seeing them as just cards. Just blue?
One solution we have, sweetie.
Don’t just surround yourself with good things. Cover yourself with them.
Really.. they don’t stick for a reason..
And if this is not enough..
Cover yourself more. And if that is not enough and you feel that the blues is coming back to you..
We have plenty of other colors here..