Sunday, April 3, 2011

Push the Sun

She woke up and knew it.

She felt it like yesterday's remnants stuck in her hair, like twigs or bubble gum. That heavy feeling. That awful reality. That truth that this is what it is and there's nothing she can do about it.


She wanted to knock down the door. Eliminate the wall, but the wall was comprised of emotions--profound feelings---that wouldn't respond well to aggression. So she sat.

She wanted to know the future. See a fortune teller. Push the sun a little faster through the sky. End this day. End this feeling. End this. But alas, she couldn't actually control the orbit of the sun. So she sat.

She wanted to control the situation. Manipulate it. Rewind time. Do over. Sort through the details. Right now. But control leads to resentment and that gets us no where. So she sat.

She wanted to solve this problem like any other, with: a kiss, a listening ear, a talk, a prayer, a good night's rest, time. But the Universe wouldn't have it. This one was out of her hands. So she sat.

Mind traveling 70 miles per hour, but sitting completely still.
Short of breath.
But breathing.
Still breathing.

In and out.


Anthony said...

I am having one of these mornings.