Feelings are invisible. Passing time has no visual.
But have you ever noticed how certain things in life have a way of putting the passing of time on display? Like the growth of gray hairs or the fine lines that spread at the corners of my eyes. The tan that fades and how my long hair brushes against a lower spot on my back. Time passes.
Sadness fades. New joy blooms.
Sometimes.
I’ve come to hate these reminders. I’d rather feel like a week is a day and a month is a moment. Don’t remind me of the minutes slipping by where I’m left with symbols of all that’s moving while I’m stuck still.
The vines that creep along my wall reach to touch windows. They once barely crawled, yet now it seems they’re walking toward the light. Running too quickly. I can’t catch up. With each leaf that grows, I’m reminded of the time that flows without my permission.
I hate it. I wish I could make it stop.
But I see the movement. I know the journey continues whether I fold my arms and refuse to walk. I look at this plant and I’m forced to face the new season. Ready or not, I’ll take a step and try to keep up. Crawling, walking, running toward the light. Although some mornings I’d prefer to recoil in the dark.
Darkness. Light. A usual battle.
A daily choice.
Today I’ll find the sun.
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