A boy sits by the ocean, his hand filled with sand.
Time slips from between his fingers.
No matter how tight his grip, time drips.
I don’t know why, often it feels like the tighter we hold on to things the faster it slips away from us as if life is a wet bar of soap, hard catch, best to open up and receive.
How do we receive our dreams, we have been taught battle, fight tooth and nail only the strong will survive. nothing is given to you on a silver platter and if it was you are seen as lucky or even a bad guy because you have not worked for it.
If you were asked to count all the grains of sand on a beach, one would quickly think of how to do this task in a different way because it will take to long and be too hard to keep track, maybe approach it mathematically, figure out how much one grain weighs and doing whatever magical math than onwards or you could lie who would know, or who would count grains of sand anyway it is ludicrous.
With time on his hands, he watches the sunset
Waits for her to rise again.
Wonders why the night seems longer, colder.
When will she rise? he asked the beach hoping time will tell.
Our dreams often seem ludicrous, even for ourselves, might not be hard or complicated just odd, yet we have the thought of this thing we want to do and we would like to at the very least try.
Trying to do the thing we often attack it with enthusiasm and passion and love all the good eagerness but why does it feel like we can not hold this bar of soap?
I think often it is like making friends with an animal, often it is better to let the critter come to you. Hard work is not one dimensional you don’t have to move the whole time, it seems hard work is consistency and patience.
It is much harder to sit and wait for the stray kitten to come to trust you, to go to that corner on the street and bring food every day and sit and wait always calmly and lovingly without getting mad or agitated an open-handed with some food the kitten approaches with trepidation walking closer and closer hesitates and walks away, do this for weeks on end not taking the rejection personally that is the hard work, wait and receive.
Time does not speak the tongue of the boy.
Time only reveals hoping we will understand.
This night is the longest he ever had.
There is no way to prove, only that he felt it so.
The boy waits for the sun to rise not sure if she has any grain left.
If you should count the grains of sand on a beach, do it however you think best, do it smartly, do it slowly, do it fast(ly), just do it how you would work hard at it give it your patients and give it your heart and do it consistently.
Time will drip from clench fists, closed hands can not receive even a grain of time so sit on the beach and wait for the waves to give and take you just be open for each grain.
We don’t know how many we have left so enjoy every count.