365 Days – Day 16

Posted on Sep 4th, 2010 | 5 comments

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Does it seem to you that time is passing by unusually slow on this blog?

Why is focus such an elusive thing to me? Why do I find it so difficult to concentrate on just one thing at a time, and finish everything that I start. It seems my whole life is just one long series of starts and stops and turns. I am so pitifully, miserably, easily distracted. I have a gluttonous mind. I get bored very easily. What I want two weeks from today may be totally opposite of what I want today. Sometimes I feel like a feather in the wind…no definitive direction, no control, no purpose. A feather’s purpose is to protect a bird from the elements and to enable flight and controlled landings. But once separated from the bird, it’s just a pretty, wispy thing floating around in the air.

I remember when I was visiting Spring Mill State Park with a friend earlier this year, at times the air was so filled with wispy, feathery white seeds that it almost looked like snow. It was almost as if the air was charged with a sort of magical quality. But though they looked like feathers, and were carried about like feathers, they weren’t really feathers, but seeds.

I hate stagnation. Give me a babbling brook or a roaring waterfall any day, over a placid lake. The glassy top of a peaceful lake is a beautiful thing to behold, I just don’t feel like I have a lot in common with it…I feel much more attuned to water that is in constant motion. FRESH water. The ocean is okay, but I need more trees and grass and hills…and LIGHT, CLEAN air. The ocean’s salt is too heavy. I’m drawn to green, misty mountains, not flat, sandy, salty beaches and expansive horizons of sameness.

I hate day in and day out SAMEness. There is a part of me I think, that actually longs for the stability of sameness, while at the same time is bored to tears with it…resulting in an almost constant state of restlessness. I’m a walking, talking in-the-flesh paradox…a constant contradiction. So much so that at times, I often find it quite difficult to live with myself.

So am I a seed or a disconnected feather? Actually, the seed is disconnected too, the major difference being that the disconnectedness of the seed has a purpose and the disconnectedness of the feather does not. I guess I’m neither a seed nor a feather…just an old lady who needs to go to bed…