It has taken me a long time to recognize, then own, that I have a problem with consistency. Because of that, evidence of borderline-reliable, possibly grown-up behavior takes on greater meaning. The least significant event turns me to examination of a bigger picture; if I had to write my life story today, the two key phrases that I see pulsing just above the horizon are "slippery fish" and "the bigger picture."
Life is peanut brittle before it hardens, the thick yet vaguely fluid substance peppered with bumps which it eventually wraps and includes. It flows at its own rate. It is not the fast-dispensing, watery ketchup, yet the time it takes to move from one level to another allows so much else to unfold.
The photo is shadowed, crowded, highly informal. The forensics lab would probably be very critical, yet it is evidence enough for me. I become even less focused by things that feel like a tentatively approaching cold, especially when accompanied by a cold sore that may be visible from space. We each have our unique milestones, dragons slain, peaks scaled. It matters that we acknowledge to ourselves and, as a friend calls them, enlightened witnesses that which moves us. Life is too short to take the meaningful for granted.
|Copyright M. Kelly for Rubbermoon|