This week has been a tornado of activity. I have groaned, moaned, kicked, fought, pouted, fumed and frowned the entire way. If there were some saving grace then it would be I am surrounded by people who seem to find amusement in my personal thunderstorms.
No, there was no tornado. The weather was exquisite, beautiful. Fat robins, green grass, purple little flowers in which Billy Sue likes to bury her nose. A blue sky with cotton clouds. My son is safe and healthy at college. I have an incredible family, lovely lovely friends, a job, a house, the cutest little dog in the world.
Yet yesterday I felt rushed, did not offer a single moment of time or consideration to another human being. I buried myself in paperwork and resentment tied like a knot in my gut. Could they ask me to do one more thing? How in the hell was I supposed to do everything? Woe is me. Woe is me.
Ironically the girl who can't find enough time in the day for all the tasks asked of her left work thirty minutes early in order to go home and feel as much nothing as possible and quite suddenly she was stopped by a line of traffic which only allowed her to move three miles in an hour and thirty minutes. Even she saw the sweet justice in bringing to halt a racing storm.
I don't know.
I don't know what seems to be burning as of late, but it is and I think it took a traffic jam to let me breathe and realize there are other people around me caught up in the same momentum or lack thereof and sometimes all we can do is inch forward. Little by little, stop and go, stop and go.
I love the way Seth thinks. There's your link, Slater.