Dirt and Diamonds

A smart woman told me once that: “You don’t plough fields with diamonds”.

I thought of it visually as diamonds in the dusty field, like the ones I walked through as I looked for work. I learned later, in the process of selling jewellery and items for engaged couples and married people that there were carbonised artefacts in diamond rings.

“Nature’s birthmarks”, the soft corporate voice of one distasteful person I worked with told me, encouraging how I was to sell it.

I never cared about the money, nor did my clientele. I don’t think it was about the stones either, not in the sense of pure greed and pedigree.

A show of material wealth is but a reflection of worth, a reflection of devotion. And would we give a damn for diamonds, were they not the toughest natural item known to humanity, possessed of fire and lustre?

Pressure forges diamonds. It is the same with men and women. I have been fortunate to see dozens in my time seem to walk through flames, to come through the unexpected, the unappreciated, the unreasonable with a higher level of intellect, success and grace.

You cannot stop ability, merely delay it. Cream rises to the top. Most are limited by the scythe of the world, but the hopeful never cease singing their songs, tuning the guitar, putting the wet ink to brush or expressing the love of what their passion is for.

And I think that is how it should be.

I can say in all honestly, life is a cycle of alchemical refinement. Constantly burning the impurities of my despair, indolence, and distraction. I think you could relate to such. But I promise, I have seen too many trim the fat, work three jobs, hunt the success and scream of their success not to have a great love and admiration of humanity.

Do not despair. Do not throw your value and lustre away. Every little thing is witnessed. All of worth rise to recognition, in ways grand and small.