I’m a vitamin taker. In addition to a multi-vitamin, I take several others that I believe are good for me to take. Yes, the multi-vitamin has the same ones I take in addition to it, but I feel better knowing that I’m taking a little extra. Rightly or wrongly, for solid or perhaps faulty reasons, I just feel better knowing that what I’m taking will help me in some way or fashion.
A friend in the medical field told me once a long time ago that I might be wasting my time and money. He described the multi-vitamin as a shot glass (yes, I had to smile at the analogy myself). He said that your body only needs what can be filled in the shot glass. If you choose to take anything in addition to what the shot glass can hold, then it spills over the top, onto the table and onto the floor. It is wasted.
I smiled and nodded and I ignore his advice because, well, just because I feel better taking my extra vitamins. I’m pretty healthy, so my reasoning is that my extras might be working for me.
Hold the thought about the shot glass overflowing for a minute . . .
I have been a fan of the Bee Gees and Barry Gibb since middle school. I loved their harmony and the way they adapted to the different musical landscape as time progressed. Many years ago, Barry Gibb described the intense pleasure he gets when he is on stage. He described the euphoria, the exuberance, the joy of connecting with the audience, of giving his all. He stated that when the concert is concluded, he is spent. Done. Finished. Wiped out. He had given his all, his best, and the end of any concert left him exhausted.
Barry Gibb after a concert . . .
Some of you might know that I write thriller fiction and that I have one book currently available on Amazon titled, Taking Lives. It is a prequel to my trilogy and is meant to introduce me to readers, and readers to my trilogy. Stolen Lives, the first book in my trilogy, comes out November 10th and I can’t wait. I know that many of you who have read Taking Lives can’t wait either because, purposely, I left you hanging. I’ve received plenty of email, text messages, phone calls, and visits at my door threatening me with bodily harm- playfully, I hope- that I left them, you, hanging. You wanted more and I didn’t deliver it . . . on purpose . . . until you read Stolen Lives and the rest of the trilogy, though I promise that each book of the trilogy is more tidy at the finish than Taking Lives is.
A Shot Glass, Barry Gibb, and my novel Taking Lives.
A shot glass eventually runs out of room. It can only take so much and eventually spills out and makes a mess. The amount it can hold is a finite amount.
Barry Gibb, like many artists and athletes, “leaves it on the floor” or in his case, “on the stage.” He has no more to give because he gives it all to the audience. He only has so much to give, but he willingly and happily gives it.
In Stolen Lives, there is a conversation between two of my characters, one of whom is central to Taking Lives and the trilogy. One character tells him that love isn’t like a cake. You don’t cut it up into pieces and distribute it until it is gone. He states that “love is sort of magical, in that the more you give away, the more you seem to have. You never seem to run out.”
Think of love as Hermione’s Purse. You know, the one from the Harry Potter books and movies. She put everything in there. Everything. It had room for a tent, for books, and for potions. Heck, I bet Ron’s Magical Car was in there somewhere.
Hermione’s Purse isn’t like the shot glass because it contained everything imaginable, even some things unimaginable and never ran out of space. Hermione’s Purse isn’t like Barry Gibb and other artists and athletes who only have so much to give and when they give it all . . . and they do . . . they are left spent, tired, exhausted, but full of joy because they had given it all.
Love is like Hermione’s Purse. The more love you have, the more you give away. The more love you give away, the more you have. It is never ending, nonstop. And what a joy it is when we give love away. It is a joy because love always comes back to us tenfold. Always. Just like Hermione’s Purse. Something to think about . . .