on finding contentment and other abstract ideas

I find myself here from time to time. Revisiting old conversations I started with myself. Many unfinished, waiting for my own reply. Most un posted. Perhaps its because I use this as culling for my own train of thought. Thought once? not worth a mention. Thought twice? Take pen to paper (or rather fingers to keys, though that's not nearly as poetic). Thought once more? And again? And then forever on my mind filling in the gaps between the necessary thoughts of getting through the day. Trying to figure it out.

wake up
--
pray for your day
--
pray for them
--
work
--
--
--
--
and so on.

And the more I think, the more I feel i've figured IT out, whatever it might be, the more it feels as if it's something physical almost as if I could hold it in my hands. That it has shape. That it takes up space. And then

--

it (sorry to tote a trope) slips through my fingers and turns back into something abstract.
and I leave it. Because I'm afraid that at my core, I might just be lazy. (what is a terrifying thought).

and then! after a pause, or break, or a full fledged neglect, I find it back in my hands. Solid! Complete. Answered.

Why now? Do I deserve it? Does it matter?

I'm not sure. But I hold it because !!!! and also, because things come and go. And that is okay.

 

Photo by Lizzy Pinkney. I've never thought my mole so beautiful!