|Pride and Joy|
(Hold on Hope, 2011)
How can I write you my joy before it dissipates into uncertainty once more?
Why, oh why do I always need such a long, laborious process and a complete physical breakdown before finally coming to the conclusion that whatever happens next, happens, and what happens after that, happens after that. What blissful relief.
And when I finally get there - actually, for-real get there, it seems so obvious. Just do the best you can with what you have, every day, and chill out a little.
The problem I have is when I don't think I'm optimizing. Who am I to say, anyway? I'm so impatient. Arrogant to be impatient, like my son wanting to build the Buzz Lightyear spaceship when he should be building the Mickey Mouse Car. Just shut up, quit getting freaked out by the emotion of how incredibly big this task is, and practice already.
(But there is this voice that says: you need to be greater at this, already. Fast track. Somehow. Quit waiting for permission. Quit waiting for assurances from other people who don't know either, even if they know more. Figure out your position, narrow it down and spit it out already. Get on with the show!)
I need to pat her on the head and say, yes, shhhh, momma will feed you when she's ready. When she's ready. And tug on that big chain to make her heel.
Musical Accompaniment A Sea Chanty of Sorts by Margot and the Nuclear So and So's followed immediately by Curve's Hell Above the Water
|Wolf spirit watches|