There Will Be Days Like This
And then they pass
On the outside, perfectly poised.
On the inside, desperately dangling.
I am struck with the vivid imagery portrayed by this beautiful ballerina: I can taste the raw tang of that heavy metal chain. I can feel her clenched muscles as she extends her powerful legs. And I can see her sheer determination holding this graceful pose, despite the ensuing discomfort.
Not unlike my own efforts to grasp a glimmering vision ahead, out of reach yet tantalizingly visible. And all the while, feeling the pressure of a hot and hazy light on my every move. Or non-move, as it were.
How much longer must I hang on?
When will I get There?
Some days, my thoughts flow freely. I’m in synch with the Universe’s invitation to co-create and it’s effortlessly easy.
Other days, it’s a slog. The moments are mud as I slowly sink, then wobble up, in search of meaning.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer. —Albert Camus
Something inside will not let me let go.
And so I persist.
My soul knows.