The Box and the Hourglass

I feel a little bit like I broke up with someone. 

I have that bittersweet blank canvas feeling. 

And it's nice. Really nice. 

It wasn't so much the sunshine and the tan-lines that made my mind open up and finally see how things really are... it was just stepping back. 

Perspective. 

Maybe it was standing on top of lighthouses. Maybe it was standing on the roof of a speedway, watching the cars crash and spin below. Maybe it was watching lightning storms that were miles away at eye level. 

But it just suddenly dawned on me. 

Just how things are. I felt the chemicals in my brain balance out into my favor, and I practically laughed. 

I realized that all of my energy was being placed into one spot. If you have dozens and dozens of fireflies, why stick them all in one jar?

I want to stick my pretty little fingers in all of my favorite pies. Spread my passion and energy in to various yet guided directions.

I'm trying to deal with my troubles and obstacles a couple at a time. Like sand slipping through an hourglass. I know there's a huge pile hovering about -  but I can only deal with them a few grains at  a time. 

Then, I can deal with them quickly. Flawlessly. Like ripping off a very sticky bandaid...

I feel like I've lost pieces of myself. While I've been molding and stretching and coping and dealing and emailing and networking and sipping free champagne and tiny bits of cow on a stick, I forgot things. 

Like I've kept the best bits - the fun bits - locked in a fancy little box, only to be opened when I've sufficiently made myself uncomfortable and miserable enough to deserve a momentary treat. Like a secret stash of cookies a Dieter keeps hidden in their pantry. 

"I'll allow myself a cookie only after really good work out. Only if I've burned enough calories. Sweated through enough clothes. Been hungry for enough hours."

I don't want to live like that. 

I'm not healthy or happy living like that.

So, I'm opening up that fancy little box. My Pandora's box, full of all the relaxation and forms of escapism and silence and silliness and laughter that I feel I don't deserve. It will sit next to my hourglass of troubles. With the tiny, petty grains of hatred and jealousy and manipultaion and self doubt falling through... meeting my might one by one. 

And when they're all clear, I'll turn the hourglass over, and start again. 

But at least the box is open, balancing the bad with the good. The rough with the smooth, and the work with the well-deserved rest. 

Comments

[Diane]

I think a lot of us tend to forget to treat and indulge ourselves until things get really bad - I've a feeling balancing things out is a bit of an artform. But I'm sure it can be done :)

[CupCate]

An art form indeed. If you figure out the magical formula give me a call. :)