Borrowed Parts


One of my favorite children’s books is “Scarecrow” by Cynthia Rylant which speaks of the peace of the scarecrow’s life in poetic prose. The story is an allegory for the impermanence of human existence. Every time I read it to my children, I am struck by these lines:

“He knows he isn’t real.
A scarecrow understands right away
that he is just borrowed parts
made to look like somebody.”

I feel this more and more every day. I don’t identify so much with my body parts as with the essence of my spirit. My flickr friend, laSilvi, posted this inspiring art today which truly echoes my own beliefs. She says, “my ego is not what I am”. I have learned this through the years. I see how people can “ooo” and “ahhh” over something like my eyes or my singing voice, but the truest reflections are not those that involve external beauty. Someone recently told me that when I sing, love comes spilling out. My love recently wrote to me, “Your eyes are a gift primarily because so many people sees themselves anew through them.” Beauty is as beauty does, I suppose. THAT is what I identify with and what I aspire to–to spill love all over the place and reflect the beauty and truth that I see all around me.

I believe my essence is LOVE. What the world sees are just borrowed parts made to look like someone.

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