Finding the emotional wherewithal to shine is kind of beyond me today.
Feeling resentful of the sun’s ability to get up at dawn and get straight to it
But I suppose that’s what it’s like to have a schedule,
a system,
a set pattern of transit and trajectory.

I admit that when I don’t do something upon thinking of it,
it doesn’t get done.
Perhaps that’s the charm of the sun,
it’s not thinking about how to be flamey and round,
It doesn’t consider that it’s rays need to reach at particular angles in order to be
Anything.

I’ve not had enough lately.
I’m feeling the bite of winter in air that wants to be spring
And it’s damn disheartening.

I find resistance,
resentment
in the push to get up and light the fire each day,
to pick up pen and find the words to convey something
which is almost always better than nothing.
In arguing with myself,
I wonder which is the voice of reason
And which is the saboteur.

Is it better to bask
in the notion of cycles,
in a set of criteria composed of
chronological conditions?

Or to disregard the daily regimen
for a randomness
which goes against the tide?
Which apparently, along with time,
waits for no man.

I’m struck lately,
by how much I’ve been reminded of the joy that comes from successfully timing
A double-dutch swing,
that perfect microcosm of connection,
and working out where to step next.

It will be interesting to see what shows up as a result of the exercise,
and worthwhile I think,
even if it’s just me,
Alighting lightly,
and ready to shine.

 

 

Today’s deck is Tarot of the Cat People