I remember too well the days of spinning plates and juggling balls. I used to live for them. I did, didn’t I?They were my life, but that wasn’t living. Balls, and plates, and benchmarks don’t make for thinking deep thoughts. They’re not conducive to meaningful conversation. They’re really not about people.
What was that life about? Running, rushing, reaching, being fearful? I never liked scary movies or scary rides at carnivals. Why would I choose the life of an adrenaline junkie living on the edge of the impossible, always this pulling a slightly scorched success from the fires of certain failure?
I felt used and useful, but the moments in between were spent wandering and anxious. I had no place without those plates, and balls, and benchmarks. I had to look for thoughts to fill up the deep dark spaces.
I am one. I am best thinking one thought, doing one thing well. Even spinning plates and juggling balls, I could spin only one plate, and then the next. I can only take one step, and then another.
I listen to one song playing beautifully in my mind. I have only one life.
No more changing channels to see what might be playing else where. No more need to make sure every ball is in the air and every plate is spinning. The one job well done, the one thought well considered feels natural and stays with me. It is my one lasting comfort. I think I’ve found my way out of the switching yard.
It’s a luxury to understand the peaceful side of a one track mind.
−me strauss Letting me be
4 comments:
Liz, you describe the 2 realities so perfectly. As I read them, my stomach moved from tension to peacefulness & focus. You have received a great gift to have left the circus act behind.
Your last line brought a smile.
Hi Dawn,
As you know every gift has its price . . . but yes, I am lucky to see from far away what I was once too close to understand. One thing at a time seem so much more human to me.
Beautiful as you Liz and as smooth as the edge of a solitary rainbow. I think if I find that pot of gold, she will be tall and have a plate of cookies in her hand. I'll just take one. Promise. :-)
If I were your pot of gold, Tree, you could have as many cookies as you wished for. They woulc all be yours.
Post a Comment