Somedays I swim in peanut butter.
In the worst of days I fear I live there.
Sometimes things are sticky and heavy.
The more I move the stickier things seem sometimes.
You try to keep your head up.
Submerged all is dark.
No hint of light or surface.
Motion is exhausting.
Each stroke harder than the one before.
You try to move but the place you are at looks and feels like the one you left.
There is no end to obstacle.
You feel like the more you move the more you are stuck.
And you want to quit.
You want someone to know but how do you explain to people?
Words seem like drama and posture
and you wish there was a map or something you could give them.
You dont understand how people can look and not see, hear and not listen.
Initially the terror suprises you
and you dont know what happened and you let people tell you it can be wished away.
Then you figure out who to blame
but pointing fingers bring no relief and change nothing.
Finally you figure maybe it is you and vow to try harder.
You discover trying harder doesnt work like you hope
and pray nobody else knows it is you.
And then you dont care anymore.
It is no longer where you are passing through but where you live.
A friend was joking around but maybe told me at least part of the answer:
Why dont you just get out and walk around. Maybe its not the sea, but just a puddle.
I am trying more to walk around.
I think my friend is right.
Life has more than enough mud and more than enough puddles.
Some take more time to leave than others
but it doesnt mean they are more than a puddle.
I am learning more what it means to walk as if there is dry ground.
Sometimes it seems little more than an act of faith,
but it is the most important faith.
I am learning falling does not mean I will drown.
Nor does it mean I cant walk.
A friend once told me life was nothing but “beans and hard times.”
There are “beans and hard times”
but the important thing to remember is that they need not always be the main course.
And life can still taste good
And be good
And all is not peanut butter