Heavy

Sometimes you get to a point when you feel all you ever worked for or wanted, you have achieved or received. But I find myself getting a strange bout of wistfulness. I normally don’t entertain thoughts of doom and gloom if I can. Life is too hectic to afford all that. Yet maybe the hecticness is a defense mechanism. A way to avoid the truth of it all. Or maybe we are all so changeable in our nature that all of these deliberations are just moot anyway.

There is a time though, just before my world begins. After a shower and I am sitting and planning in my head what the day would turn out like that I try to make sense of it all. And this is when waves of guilt, regret or something from the family tree of sadness overcomes me. For five minutes. Before I put on my shield, my armour, my helmet and draw out my sword for the day. I suppose for me this is the closest I will ever come to admitting any form of failure or doubt that life in its many forms has denied me utter and complete satisfaction.

I indulge that moment. It’s important for me to recognise my limitations and somehow still manage to get that one foot out of the door. We all need a way to cope with this way of life. At least for another year or so.

I have to choose again. And I really don’t know whether I am ready to allow my walls to be infiltrated. I have taken pause again and I must confess…. something’s amiss.