A boy in a Box!

You know, thinking about thinking reminds me of being a young child. I had a toy box. In that toy box, I mainly had toys or what I would use as a toy to play with. As I grew older toys came and went, from being lost, swapped, given away, broken and thrown out, brought, found, stolen, and made. The toy box itself was an old removalist’s box at one stage, as the box itself had changed so many times, and from there the box grew in content.

I had that toy box for what seemed to be a very, very long time. It became what resembled to be more of a junk box and I found that I would begin collecting stuff that one day could be used, or so I thought and it seemed to good to throw just away, so it would go into the box. Where others saw nothing of importance I on the other hand saw the potential in those things.

When it came to know just what was in the box my memory had faded. I had to return to check for this or for that when I needed things. Somehow I thought I knew I would have the need for repairs in my future so I hung onto what I thought might work. The box began to be looked at by others and questions asked. My father and mother found my very first packet of smokes hidden in that box. And finally, the box became a place to hide things I had hung onto over time.

I was now becoming a young man and the old box was emptying quickly. Things being thrown away or given to those who saw the value I once did. The box ceased and its content tipped right over and most of it lost, a small piece went with me. It was a brass bullet I made at high school in 1987 to put on a key ring, it was fake of course, yet looked and felt very real. That object was the only one to exist from that toy box and go with me on my travels. It was given to a friend for remembering, who lost it in 1997 not so long ago. I still know and see that friend today and the story of the bullet keyring is but one of the many memories we speak of from time to time with a smile on our faces and a bit of a laugh.

I hung onto the stuff of my past simply to find no need for it in my future and then I realized I needed to be needed by me, for me. That’s what it was all about; I needed me to be me… Now, being the age that I am today, I know that simply being here is because I am needed in the grand scheme of all things as the universe plays out the game. I am needed, no more or no less than all things are….. And my universe became my new toy box already filled with all I could dream, desire, and create right now. So I do because I can. I grew out of the box and it was good.


Reference: Unknown


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