Tightly Wound

I got nothing this morning – except runner’s knee again, which is why the neatly planned morning is falling apart.

Frustration. My body. My dog – who for some reason has turned the clock back suddenly and is waking me at 3 am. And, yeah, I am up for about 15 minutes to deal with the alarm, let him out – in, set the alarm again, but then use that as an excuse to sleep an extra hour.

And crawl out of bed to dawdle with coffee and the news.

I know better. I know opening Facebook brings a world of negativity and is the worst possible way to begin the day – with things that are completely irrelevant to my life, that none-the-less set my teeth on edge even before I’ve showered. If I were watching an ant frantically waving her antennae, banging her head against an expanse of porcelain wall, I would think: You stupid creature. Turn around.

Yesterday in a meeting, I made a statement that hushed the room. Someone finally began a new conversation. I think my statement was a non-sequitur. Lately I have been misreading, mishearing and misinterpreting normal missives. Lately it feels like I have been poorly skimming the world and moving too quickly mentally to be present: to take it in for what it is.

There is a little refrain in my head: I don’t have time for this.

Now, sitting here, I am wondering why I don’t have time. What am I in a hurry to get to? Don’t get me wrong, there have also been annoying things that I don’t/won’t make time for, but this is different. I am not even sure where I am going in such a hurry. Is there a pot at the end of the rainbow, or it is just a deadline, a cut-off, an expectation that I have to meet – or else?

That little ant banging her head, determined to get … through. But there is really nothing there. Nothing to get to.

I need a good run.

I had an aunt – have an aunt, I guess – who used to rewind motors. It is supposed to be a special skill, a relatively well-paid job. These days, it’s also important for the environment. She didn’t know that then.

I need a rewind. Unwind. Run like the wind.

I have been thinking now that I have never seen an ant indoors here. Stupid ants.

Or not.

2 Replies to “Tightly Wound”

  1. Perhaps the lack of time is just a longing for the end of the winter. That’s the pot of gold. And yet – we all get frustrated at this never-ending cycle that always returns us to winter, always returns us in one way or another to somewhere we’ve been before.


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