I have been spending amounts of time wrapped around bones like skeleton keys and touching with my palms, and the rest of my time thinking about that, so you can see that I am very busy. I get the feeling that I may soon be taking more trains, but I am waiting for life to prove that it actually has my best interests in mind. Sometimes, I wonder.
When I was a kid I had a rock tumbler, a red barrel that turned and turned some rocks together with ever-finer grit to smooth all of their edges, so that I could glue them on to things and make profoundly ugly jewelery. We had to keep the machine in the shed because geology in action is incredibly loud, but at the end of a few weeks I had a handful of shiny stones, all covered in a nice thick coat of metaphors about the passage of time and elements and the disappearing of rough edges.
Or maybe that's only in retrospect.
In whatever case, I admit that I am slow to warm to change, especially when everything is so pleasant without it. The grit that makes things shiny also hurts, and I don't particularly want my skin rubbed off. I want change to sit in the corner and think about what it's going to do for a while before it rushes into anything, but I don't actually get to pick. What is about to happen will, regardless of how much time I would like to spent examining as many angles as I can get my eyes on. Knowing my flaws and changing them are two different walks in two different parks, and I suspect that that means things are going to get a little grumpy around here in the near future. So much is already different.
No comments:
Post a Comment