The other day, while languishing on the sofa in a state of semi-sleep, I could hear the faint buzzing of a fly against the glass of the window. Over and over, it circled the perimeter trying to find its way to the outdoors. It could see where it wanted to go, but just couldn't manage to get there.
I started to think about that fly and about how its behavior mirrors my own. I also look out at the world before me and find that, for some reason, there is a seemingly invisible force holding me back from the life I want to live. For me, this force isn't transparent like a sheet of glass, rather it's a little smudged and obscure, as things have a tendency to become over time, making it not easily penetrated by the light that could bring clarity and guide my way.
This weighs on me...making me feel restless and weary, frustrated and consumed. Recently, while talking with my son, he wondered what I hoped to be when I grow up. I just sighed, shrugged my shoulders and told him that I wish I knew. The sad thing is that I'm so far beyond being grown up that I wonder if I'll ever know the answer to his question.
The need to reflect and figure things out is always there, encompassing my thoughts and taking up my time. Because of this, I've had less to give to my space here and less time for visiting. For the moment, I'm just trying to give a little love to the other pieces of my world.