One mans junk is another mans treasure

One mans junk is another mans treasure.
Or gold.
Or what ever it is.
I don’t know how the saying goes exactly.

How very true though.

The last few weeks have seen me in a reflective space. Looking at things from different angles and with new eyes.

Change. Such a nice word change, because it leaves open so much.

Expectation?
Room for growth?

What if Aladdin had never rubbed that golden lamp? What if while stumbling through the different corridors and rooms he had over looked the dusty old lamp thrown there by who ever had thought, agg, just another kak, dusty old lamp?

It might still be lying there.

Instead he picked it up and cleaned it knowing there was something special underneath the layers of dirt and grime.

And how right he was.

I know there are a few people out there in the world who think I’m junk.
That’s fine.
There are a few people out in the world who I think are junk.

Here’s the lovely part though…

To someone they are gold.
To someone they shine.
To someone they are the most precious thing on the face of the world.

Someone sees the beauty in them. The truths and the secrets hidden deep down.
Someone was or is or will break down those walls.
Clean away the mucky muckness.

And really, that’s all that counts.
That someone will.

And in the end.
They score for not being afraid.