Enjoying the Kaleidoscope of Life

Kalei­do­scopes take bro­ken glass and present them in novel ways. No mat­ter how the “worth­less” glass is tum­bled, it presents end­less pos­si­bil­i­ties for color and cre­ativ­ity. Aim the kalei­do­scope toward the light, and the view gets even bet­ter.
The chal­lenge is to do the same with your own life. By now, espe­cially if you are over forty, you have enough bro­ken pieces of life to fill on great big bucket. The past can­not be changed. The pieces will never go back together again — so what are you going to do?
There really is not any­thing you can do but look at the pieces cre­atively. Stir them around a lit­tle bit under the light and with­out expec­ta­tions (ditch “should” and “if”). Back off a bit. Let the bro­ken pieces have their space. Make no value judg­ments about them. Just let them be as they are.
Your dreams do this a lit­tle bit — some­times quite cre­atively. They are not above mix­ing the bit­ter with the sweet. You can wake up laugh­ing or cry­ing. Regard­less of the lin­ger­ing feel­ings, you dis­cover that there are end­less ways to view the past. God alone sees it all with any sort of absolute accu­racy, and I often won­der if he sees the whole of the uni­verse as one giant kalei­do­scope of life. There may even be an infi­nite num­ber of par­al­lel uni­verses so all pos­si­bil­i­ties can be expressed.
Stop cry­ing over spilled milk. Invite the cat in. Then invite the dog. Then invite every­one else in just to see what hap­pens when the dog begins to chase the cat around the kitchen of your mind. So your life is a mess. So is the ocean. So is the ever-changing sky. Even so the infi­nite swirling galax­ies that have no end.
Let me see, what was I wor­ry­ing about?