When I started this blog in October 2007, there was a story here about my connection to "Tilting With Windmills". Much of what was in that post no longer applies. Much other of it still does. So, here's the story.
When I was graduating from high school, more than 40 years ago, a group of my friend presented me with a print of Picasso's Don Quixote. They said it reminded me of them.
I get upset when things are wrong, even though getting upset cannot fix them. I dislike people who are cruel or petty or self-serving, and am frustrated that I cannot change them. I fight a daily battle with my health, although I know that every new day is another battle. I have a husband and close friends who support me, even when what I want or believe seems crazy.
So, the comparison with Don Quixote is perhaps an apt one. The story encourages me to take on the battles I see, even the hopeless ones. It reminds me to try to see the best in people. It comforts me that, in the end, even if my actions are futile, they are not meaningless.
I mean to try to continue "to dream the impossible dream".
Picasso's Don Quixote
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