There are times of calm, I must admit. A moment, perhaps stolen from some of the doings and goings of busy life, a pause where I can sit and think, sit and daydream, or sit and do nothing at all. No, they usually don't last very long, these interludes, but I can say that they do come. I can stop for a little while — like a break from life, where I may suspend all my cares, worries, and stresses for just a few minutes: a rest stop on this journey through this world. I don't know what I would be like without these times of still contemplation, whether I am capable of carrying the weight of this life if I don't unload it occasionally and stretch these tired muscles. We all of us are capable of handling just so much without something snapping under the strain of constant pressure. We all of us need some times to relax our hearts so full of their troubles.
I do have instances where I ask that impossible question: why? When I question the motives of this world, when I wonder what God had in mind for the things that happen to me. Sometimes it infects my peace. Somewhere, though, I understand that some questions I can ask forever and no answer will satisfy them. Learning to let things go was one of the harder lessons to learn — I always wanted the magical answer to my woes and blamed all the world for why something went wrong, why my plans always blew up in my face. Then there came that day when I discovered holding onto all those frustrations gave me no room for me, that I was becoming very small, indeed. I learned release. And these times of calm, now: the world is very far away, just for a minute: just me with myself, not to ask any questions with no answers, free of all cares.
me?!