Flying Objects

I stare at my monitor and let the flying tiny objects fly past my tired brain. I’m tired, and I observe that. I’m confused, and I observe that. I’m overworked and I observe that. I don’t know what the next step with my project is and I observe, no, just exist, in that. Breathe in. Breathe out. That’s all I know. I stop and breathe and rest. another curve ball was thrown this morning. Breathe in. Breathe out. Stop. Don’t do. Don’t think. Take air in. Take air out.

A million tiny objects fly past my head. I own none of them. Long ago anger, pushed back pressure, I see none of these long enough to fully recognize what they are and where they’re coming from, and certainly not to engage them. There are larger forces. Life moves on. Spins, rushes. At the center, it turns slowly, surely, determinedly, self-contained. At the edges, spinning frantically, rushing like a child’s merrry-go-round, the pieces move quickly to keep up with the center.

One thought on “Flying Objects

  1. May the Lord keep you in his thoughts and steady you as you walk along. May he give you a new song to sing. He has performed many wonders for you. His plans for you are too numerous to list.


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