Rest

Rest.

So often it feels elusive.

Difficult to define, more difficult to realize.

In my weak human-ness, I wish for ease.

Balance.

I’ve always struggled with it. I can be honest: I’m a pendulum swinger.

Negligence? Check. Anxiety? Check.

You?

Maybe I’m not alone.

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It was a rough month.

The indecision. The inability to control or enjoy. The little things in the way. And just plain stuff in the way.

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But little arrows.

Here and there, pointing the way.

A blog post or two or three. A workshop. A book. A few literary quotes.

Decisions made.

A little peace. A little breathing room.

Inspiration, finally.

A little excitement.

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Vacation.

Where one goes and her faults follow. Along with all the little (and big) quirks of humanity to whom she has given birth.

Moments of loveliness. Moments of feeling like a scrag of a tree on a weather-beaten rock.

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But grace is a fact.