The rainy deluge has transformed to ice, which is building up on the grass and pelting the windows with a ferocious plink. Any minute now, the wind and the cold will transform the ice to snow. What a difference from yesterday’s balmy 64-degree sunshine, a splendid day that I was unaware of as I was held hostage by cinder blocks, each one with its own demand masked as a responsibility. I’ve got a lot going on yet no time for anything. I’m treading through distraction after distraction, falling further behind, and it’s quite difficult right now to stay afloat. As I cross one plateau, an obstruction suddenly appears, extending the distance between what I thought was my purpose and that elusive finish line. I gasp for breath amid life’s cyclone, and with each inhale, a smidgen of my soul dies. What was so clear is cloudy, again, so far off behind the cyclone’s eye that I struggle to catch even just a fleeting glimpse.
Is it my mind that’s the bully, or time? Or is life the bully, entertaining itself by heaving an obstacle in my path to throw me off again? Ideas blaze into my head at the speed of light, diverting my attention like a shiny set of keys on a shimmering key chain as I become consumed with spiraling thoughts and plotting out possibilities. Should this new idea be the reason I abandon all of the former ideas that stole my focus, making me abandon those other ideas that are now left floating lifeless, dissolving as quickly as time is running out? It’s so close, my somewhere over the rainbow, but which path will take me there, and how do I move forward when the cinder blocks won’t allow me to escape? I’m not sleeping, oh no.