Behold! The match is drawn and struck. The spark is made and the flame ignites, as it moves towards the wick. The fire takes hold and the candle steps into the flow of time.
The candle illumines the stillness and the tasks that lay undone. The restlessness within is revealed in its flickering light. See the one in motion, unable to remain at rest until the body says enough.
Another day, there’s more to do, and so the other end of the candle is found by the flame.
Two steps forward, then three steps back. Falling behind as the pace is increased. Searching for another place a flame can take hold while fearing the time when the candle will break.
The body cries out for rest, but the mind refuses to let go. It wants to but the work is not yet done. It fears the voices that come in the quiet of idleness.
The mind desires stillness but the body cannot remain at rest. The energy within must go somewhere. The tension must be released but there are too many choices and where to begin…
Then, in the blink of an eye, the light from the candle is gone. There is nothing left to burn. The mind still plans as it calls out to the body to remain and let go. Yet, it is drug down into darkness and stillness as the body has nothing left.
The mind lets go at last and descends with the body. It knows it must recharge. If the coming day is to be faced, the wax must cool and the new wick trimmed.
Here it is, if you care to read it.
Maybe you’d find it of interest after all; though to me it’s both depressing and frustrating.
Do you want to know of those dreams, desires and hopes I arose with. Would you find more interest in what I accomplished or what was left unfinished?
If you want the first. Find someone else, I’m sorry but that doesn’t matter to me that much. Most of those will repeat tomorrow anyway. It is the unfinished ones that cling to you and refuse to let go. Those are what I think about and wish I could stop.
If you want to read this book I’ve written, please sit down. The volume is long and book one has, drat, I forgot to number the pages; well, it’s a lot.
So maybe tomorrow’s will be shorter but it’s Monday so probably not.
I almost want to ask, but I don’t think I will. It might be okay if I did, but I’m not sure if it’s normal or even what the reaction would be. Yet, here I sit wondering if I offended or upset someone else without realizing it.
All I can base this on is one side of an overheard conversation. It seemed to relate to the work I had volunteered to help with. Nothing was said and no reactions given. So maybe it’s all in my head. Perhaps, that was not the environment I work well in and out felt awkward to the one I was helping.
So I choose not to beat myself up anymore for that time. I choose to forgive myself as well. Most likely, it’s as it usually is, all in my head.
As I write this I have to wonder exactly how many times this situation has been replayed. How often would I see myself just barely keeping it together when my “plans” were suddenly altered. I almost want to ask how my co-workers have viewed those times but if I do keep things as contained in public as I believe then maybe they’ve not noticed anything. As my boss hasn’t addressed similar situations I have to believe that outwardly the mask I’ve put on is still mostly in place.
My day had been going well overall. As a delivery driver some days are very straightforward and other times you honestly wonder how there are not more serious accidents on the road. This is not my ideal job but it is a job I can do and for now it works. I have small routines and I do my run in a certain order (doing it in the reverse order has not gone great (…I wonder why, kinda). I handle my stops a certain way and get back usually in a certain time ballpark.
Yesterday I was reminded again that I can be sensitive/easily agitated when that routine gets interrupted. I left for my second run and was called back to get a part I “forgot” which really surprised me as I thought I had done l double checked everything. I turned around and picked up the part (15 minutes later) only to see that not only was it not properly noted but was printed after the specified time. I’m sure I didn’t forget it but that it came late. It took hours to stop venting (to myself as I drove) to feel settled. Then in explaining to my wife why this bothered me I could feel that coming back…sigh…
In hindsight, the “rules” were broken and I felt my work ethic was questioned. Yet, my reaction was wrong. I have and will forget things and if I expect grace then I must show it to others.