Longing

Staring blankly out the window, I wonder what I should say. Where does one go from here? As I gaze sullenly out the window, I realize I’d much rather be napping in a hammock this afternoon. All of my energy seems to have waned indefinitely, and I feel heavy and weak. The clear blue sky looks so warm and comforting. The trees sway in a lovely breeze, the leaves flapping as the wind brushes against them. People begin to disperse – that daily grind coming to an end for them. Yet here I am, agonizing over my lack of inspiration. It must be the absence of caffeine. Oh how I miss the sweet morning nectar that injects life into my soul – liquid motivation. I glaze over, contemplating how I’m ever going to manage the next adventure life has presented to me. I sip the room temperature water and brush the hair out of my eyes. A small voice insides nags, “show, don’t tell!” I cringe. How can you not see what I’m trying to convey to you?! I cry out indignantly. Perhaps if I were Hemingway, I would immediately grasp the concept of showing versus telling. My mind drifts again, picking apart the many faults I own. Isn’t it wonderful when the mind plays this game? That negative self-talk that consistently arises at the worse possible moments – we really need to muster the motivation to do whatever it is we’re doing, and that wretched little voice comes along to remind us of our flaws. Just who does it think it is to tell me I’m not good enough?

I adjust myself in my chair, remembering I’ve agreed to lock the other building this evening. My reminder hasn’t popped up in a while. I check to see if I perhaps dismissed the alarm – indeed I did. I click snooze again, knowing I still have ample time left in my day. The blue sky looks quite inviting again. If only unbridled energy fell from the sky, then I would harness it for my personal gain. Of course, this is the real world we live in. Perhaps a lovely dinner will recharge my empty reserves.