One letter. Word. Sentence. The tumbling and rolling into a lyrical life.
Create a story.
Breathe in. Exhale.
I can hear the ticking of the clock. The seconds rolling into minutes until they all tumble into the stack we call a day.
The fibers of my being are comfortable. I live in Average Land where life is convenient, entertaining, secure. It’s recliner chair cozy.
And for all this, I’m grateful. Beyond grateful. So much so that I could simply curl up with my cup of tea and a good book and wile away the hours. Is this livin’ the dream? I think it is.
As I type this, my family is still asleep. For this moment at least, the universe revolves around me.
So I sit down at the laptop, pull up my inbox on the screen, and there… there’s something about an earthquake? They’re asking for help. For relief.
It is reported that thousands are expected dead. The devastation came while we ate dinner with friends last night and I lamented that the spaghetti turned out a bit dry because the ratio of pasta to sauce went awry. I apologized for not having a salad to serve with the meal.
365 days. The annual reports and goals and all that we have to resolve in the span of 525,600 minutes.
Comfortable is not the same as fulfilled. The game changes if we want to go to that level of living. It’s no longer a recliner chair mentality. It’ll require something more. A lot of something more.
The words and sentences change. The story tells differently. The world tilts on it’s axis and my breath catches while my feet find their footing in the shift from comfortable to stepping into the tension.