Big Ideas

Big ideas cancelled by
Little distractions
Disproportionate focus
Taking up all my time
To want to

I WILL WHEN

These little distractions, these
Sandstorms, deposit layers of sediment
To obscure the path and the plan
To need to

I ACCOMPLISH NOTHING

Dunes soon form
Becoming barricades, a gigantic something
I cannot see beyond

AND CEASE TO BE

Hopeless, asking how? Why?
What’s the point?

Photo by Paul Scott from FreeImages

In the Seeking

I already know I can’t search out, cobble together, what I need. It’s not right here, so I have to find it.

Does it become more valuable because I have to dig it from the ground? Wrench it from the Earth’s clutches?

In the seeking, I learn what’s truly desired. Or is it now an obsession? Or just a waste of time? Or is it just lost to me? Am I run by convenience and the unnecessary?

Easily distracted by everything; overshadowed by the Shiny. Here I am, allowing coercion, manipulation, influence.

Why?

Because I’m desperate, lonely, and willing.

Several months ago, I stopped writing. I allowed attacks, accusations, and endless bombardment to stall me. To fill my head with worry that my words would be used against me during each encounter.

My words.

My words hurled as proof of my inadequacies. My lack of resilience. My failures.

I’ve decided it’s no longer my job to fear interpretations or retribution. This is my space, my sanctuary and I’m taking it back.