Marbles/Life?
Think way back now… remember the days of serious marble playing? I remember the days; but I never took it serious—-mainly because my marble shooting skills never exceeded the beginner’s level. Because of this I never bothered to learn the rules; I still don’t know them. I do remember cute little boys searching out sticks on the playground so they could draw the perfect circle in the dirt. Of course these same cute little boys usually got in trouble with the stick they gathered for drawing because they couldn’t resist poking innocent kids that passed within reach.
My upper elementary school had large trees on the campus—not many; but a few. Under these majestic trees is where we would gather when we wanted to shoot marbles or simply be a spectator and watch the pros. The perfect spot for dirt and shade; along with a cool breeze. Most of the time I was a spectator except for the occasional game I would play (by my own rules of course) with my not so pro friends.
I remember the looks of pride as these cute little boys reached into their pockets and pulled out their prized bag of marbles. These rough and tumble boys handled the marble bags with delicacy; moments earlier they may have had their finger up their nose or adjusting their underwear—but their bag of marbles was serious business.
Have you ever really looked at a marble? All sizes, colors, swirls; no two are alike. They really are beautiful. I always wondered how something so beautiful and made of glass could withstand the beating they took during a game and not break. I loved to hold them towards the sun and watch the light shine through. I loved to line them up side by side and notice all of the differences between them. But most of all I loved to see them roll; the swirls and colors blending into one.
We’re a lot like marbles aren’t we? All beautiful; unique; delicate; made to withstand hard knocks if we choose to; have our moments in the sun; and then we ROLL. We roll through this life blending with one another; bumping some; steering clear of others. As we roll our colors become one; but in the stillness of the marble bag the colors are distinct. It’s in our own moments of stillness that we discover ourselves and the uniqueness we possess; and such is the beauty of a simple marble.
I still love marbles and remembering cute little rowdy boys as they venture out on their quest for the perfect drawing stick so they could show off their marble skills. Some things never change…
Miracle--Bon Jovi
My upper elementary school had large trees on the campus—not many; but a few. Under these majestic trees is where we would gather when we wanted to shoot marbles or simply be a spectator and watch the pros. The perfect spot for dirt and shade; along with a cool breeze. Most of the time I was a spectator except for the occasional game I would play (by my own rules of course) with my not so pro friends.
I remember the looks of pride as these cute little boys reached into their pockets and pulled out their prized bag of marbles. These rough and tumble boys handled the marble bags with delicacy; moments earlier they may have had their finger up their nose or adjusting their underwear—but their bag of marbles was serious business.
Have you ever really looked at a marble? All sizes, colors, swirls; no two are alike. They really are beautiful. I always wondered how something so beautiful and made of glass could withstand the beating they took during a game and not break. I loved to hold them towards the sun and watch the light shine through. I loved to line them up side by side and notice all of the differences between them. But most of all I loved to see them roll; the swirls and colors blending into one.
We’re a lot like marbles aren’t we? All beautiful; unique; delicate; made to withstand hard knocks if we choose to; have our moments in the sun; and then we ROLL. We roll through this life blending with one another; bumping some; steering clear of others. As we roll our colors become one; but in the stillness of the marble bag the colors are distinct. It’s in our own moments of stillness that we discover ourselves and the uniqueness we possess; and such is the beauty of a simple marble.
I still love marbles and remembering cute little rowdy boys as they venture out on their quest for the perfect drawing stick so they could show off their marble skills. Some things never change…
Miracle--Bon Jovi
posted by Gaye at 7:58 AM
5 Comments:
I wasn't a cute little boy but I surely did love shooting marbles. Problem was, I wasn't worth a damn. Good thing I don't mind losing.
As humans we have so much in common. Sadly, it is the beauty of our uniqueness that seems to cause the bias related hate.
Good post, Gaye.
buffalo--looking back; all little boys were cute--everyone one. I'd rather suffer the consequences of being unique; rather than be like everyone else. You're right; it is sad tho... Thanx!
Excellent analogy. I never thought of it that way...I do love to look at a swirly marble, they are so unique and pretty.
birdman--I love going back there in my mind; nothing like a 9 year old with a bag of marbles...thanks.
steph--thank you...btw...your pic is beautiful!!!
Yes, "All Beautiful; unique; delicate..."
A wonderful perception. I wish I could keep that point of view at all times.
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