Some days I find myself utterly paralyzed by the
insurmountable magnitude of things I must get done. My shortcomings in areas of organization and time management
are glaringly evident in the face of my never-ending list of "have to do's", "need to do's", "want to do's", and "should do's".
Some days I get caught and tangled and hung up in the briars
and the brambles and the branches. I trip incessantly over the twisted roots of
ineptitudes.
Like a vicious storm, a torrential hurricane sweeps through
my mind and scatters about any semblance of competence I may have been
gripping. I am knocked off my feet into the groundless, ruthless, abyss of
inadequacy.
I am beaten and battered by the deluge of self-doubt and second-guessing.
And much like a turtle in its shell I withdraw and wait for
the storm to pass, all the while feeling like I should be some sort of awesome dragon
that can beat back that storm with the massive power of my wings and fire
breath. Inevitably, I wind up feeling only further diminished by my complete
and total lack of power against this ruthless furor.
I peer out through the murky fog of incompetence, out into
the thick, dark, stillness that is left after the storm has past. I slowly come
out of my shell, ravished and weak. I step tentatively out and find ground
where just moments ago there was none. The ground is soft and dense like the
stinky, sedentary mud of a swamp. As I make my way shakily forward, I feel
myself sinking to the familiar place where the mud is chest deep, pressing in
on me, making it impossible to draw full breaths. I begin to tackle my
overwhelming mountain of tasks, one at a time as I trudge through the
oppressive muck. I feel a little lighter as I begin to climb up the mountain,
one task at a time. From chest deep, to waist, to knee... At this point I can
see the crystal clear sky of presence and I am reminded that life is not all a
swirling storm, followed by a soul sucking trudge through the depths of drudgery.
I bask for a moment in the light of the sun and look back at the mountain,
which now looks much like a mole hill, made up of inconsequential, over blown
details, which were probably never very threatening after all. I breathe a sigh
of relief and am overcome by unrelenting gratitude for this moment in which I
see, truly see, life as it is and not through some distorted, fear-tainted
lens.
And though I know that as weather tends to do, another storm
will likely rise again to wreak havoc, I am none the less strengthened by this
glimpse of reality, and find comfort in the knowledge that no matter how dark
and difficult things appear, the clarity of peace is always right there just
waiting for me to find my way out of the chaos.
