Tipping at Windmills

I will never understand. I will never understand why I don’t do what I want to do and why sometimes I do things that I don’t really want to. I saw a pile of bite sized cream puffs sitting on the table. I had just finished a good meal and they were just sitting there … but not for long. I was full, I had enough, and I knew that I didn’t need them but … they were just sitting there. I will never understand why my exercise bike collects dust. Why, for the first time in my life, do I not own a pair of tennis shoes? I just don’t understand.

I will never understand why there are not three times as many women’s restrooms as men’s in any large venue. I will never understand why Paris Hilton is popular.

I will never understand why someone who is beat and abused will continue to go back to the abuser. I will never understand why a child continues to love through bloodied pain. I will never understand why many cannot stop until they see the bottom of a bottle or the end of a 12-pack.

There is so much I don’t understand and so much that I should but I just don’t. I don’t even understand why I don’t understand. I think the people who think they do understand are the ones who know even less. Life is kind of strange that way but it could be that I just don’t understand it. My NOT understanding though, normally, doesn’t change my action. I will continue to quit eating so much even though I will probably not be successful. I will continue to get on that bike even though it spends more time in the corner. I will continue help the hurt even when they go back to the source. I will continue to save a child even when their love of their abuser causes them to hate me. I will encourage the habit weary even when they continue in their habits. Even though I don’t understand, I will continue to try. I will tip my lance at the windmill and charge. Again.

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