Walking on Clouds by Gilad
A little boy told me once that there’s always one sandwich missing in a sandwich basket. Apparently it was his philosophy in life. I laughed at the time. But as I began to get older I realized that truer words were never spoken. He had the most original way of telling me that nothing in life is complete. That there’s always something that stops any situation from being perfect. It sounds pessimistic in a way.
But it also reminds me of something someone else said. Mr. George Bernard Shaw said that “as long as I don’t have what I want, I have a reason for living. Contentment is death”. I’ve never been content. I guess that means I’m still very much here. It’s an affirmation that I am alive. That I still thirst and hunger and need for more than I have, greater things than are possible.
People tell me I’m too much of dreamer. That in the midst of my pessimism, hope always managed to creep in. Every time life beats me to the ground, I realize that that’s as low as I can ever get and I rise up. Time after time.
It makes you wonder though sometimes. Am I asking for too much to be happy. I look at what I have right now, the opportunities in front of me, the people in my life who love me, my job, my muse, my two amazing canine kiddies and I still want more. Different things than the obvious.
My English lit teacher wrote me a little note when I was leaving school that I know by heart. I see you longing for the finer things in life. Poetry in life and love and in everything you long for. It’s going to be lonely up there. But remember… the air up there is sweeter, rarer.
I think she got the 18 year old me down to a pat. And since I doubt I’ve grown up very much since then, other than to let my search beat me down time after time, I think I still won’t settle for anything less. I owe it to myself to move every mountain in my way. I owe it to myself to never stop searching.
In the midst of it, what really scares me is finding what I’m looking for. What if I find my missing sandwich? What happens when my picnic basket finally becomes complete and all I have left to do is, spread my gingham blanket on the ground and enjoy my day in the sun? Will it be the death of me? (can you see how that wretched pessimist in me creeps in through the cracks in the conversation?)
My teacher was right, my search, my chase has been a very lonely one. It’s an utterly depressing place to be sometimes when I stop and evaluate what I’ve had to come through. I’m still climbing my mountains but sometimes when the route gets a little rocky, it’s nice to have someone give you a hand up.
It’s an infinitely lonely place when no one sees into your soul and really gets you. But that’s not the point of this post. I just wanted to tell you in my own words, the other facet of why my blog is thus named.
I am the missing sandwich because I feel that my purpose is to complete someone’s life. But my blog is also called the missing sandwich because it’s a declaration of my final destination. My desire to be complete and the fact that it’s ok that I’m not quite there yet.
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The Missing Sandwich 