Refrigerator Magnet

On my refrigerator is a magnet that I purchased years ago for its aspirational words.  I had forgotten about it until the other day when I stopped to read it as I was taking the water out:

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars…” – Jack Kerouac

Still beautiful and inspirational, yet, those words no longer hold for me the same kind of magic they once did. Perhaps it’s because I now understand that those kinds of flames burn out too fast. Perhaps it’s because I now understand that kind of brightness often masks underlying darkness. Perhaps it’s because I now understand those explosions are bright punctuations between the stretches of barren fields. Perhaps it’s because I now understand that words can inflate one’s sense of importance yet will fall short on delivery.

Kerouac’s words are still beautiful and aspirational, yet they are just that, beautiful words.  Perhaps it’s because I now understand that I no longer need to look outside for approval.