Move the Bowling Ball, it is in my Way

Waking,

slipping past the softening dreams, feeling the sliding, feeling cheated, realizing you had to slide over the side, take that breath, flat feet on the ground, stand up to your load, meet the day ahead,

wishing,

to be that little one, met by Mommie, while she cooed and sang and caressed you.

Piercing Sunshine. The beginning of an Epic headache.

Monday traffic.

Stress handled quietly. No screaming, sign of weakness. Flip the radio, find a better station, no talk.

Music to make you feel something better than what you feel.

“Sunshine on my shoulders me happy.”

Damn, suck it up. No sappy. Get to it.

The human spirit is like a bowling ball in a soft bed.
It finds a place to settle and just stays there.

It is the tough breaks, the bad jobs, the awful changes in life that move our bowling ball, hopefully to a better place.

But, is it a better place?

Left lane, pay attention. Really? Dude reading his cellphone?

Last week, the daughter came to visit, smiles times two. Hoping for the bonding of life and love.

But, it had to happen.

She to the emotional side, you to the factual side.

Uncomfortable, but you loved her, but the divide is growing like the Grand Canyon.

In our hearts, one feeling that we lost our way.

We lost living, while we slap at loving.

We became machines. Sometimes angry machines.

You made a promise to yourself.
More meditation.
More church and God.
More family.
Fewer cell phones.

Get off the damned hamster wheel.

Move the damned bowling ball.

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