Ah...Friday. I love Fridays. Fridays are full of possibility. Looking out across the expanse that is your impending weekend, every hour waiting to be filled at your whim - will it be an hour of doing nothing followed by an hour of doing absolutely nothing? Sinking back into the ease of my spacious white sofa, limbs outstretched with abandon, bassbeats of Bob Marley massaging my tired body, flushing out the toxins of weekday life aka Work and Worry...
"Rise up this morning, smile with the rising sun, three little birds, stood by my doorstep, singing sweet song of melodies pure and true, saying this is my message to you..." You all know how the rest goes. =) No? Alright lemme help you out then: "...singing DON'T WORRY...ABOUT A THING...'CAUSE EVERY LITTLE THING'S, GONNA BE ALRIGHT..." Somehow when Marley sings it you can't help but smile and believe him.
I look back at the week and think of all the worries that have siphoned through me, both my own and those of the people that I love, and I wonder...what the heck is it with worrying? We're all so obsessively concerned with the future. Will I have enough saved by such and such time to support the family I plan to have? Will I meet someone with whom I can share my mornings and evenings? Will I ever find a job that fills my pockets and fulfills my soul? Will he say "yes"? Will she say "no"? Will "we" make it?
Even the chillest of those that surround me cannot shake this disease of the mind that does nothing but mold that funny vertical line in between your eyebrows and clutter your brain. I imagine all these little worry whorls, born from the dust on the cellar floors of our mind, swept up by some irresponsible breeze of thought or another, twirling slowly at first, suspended in the stale air, then whirling at an increasing rate, reaching dizzying speeds, shooting up and up until meeting smack with the roof of rationality above, disintegrating in a millisecond, worry particles descending slowly down, down, down to rest upon creaky floorboards, only to be swept up again...ad infinatum. How much energy is wasted in this process, I wonder?
And yet, for all the the rationality we store up in our day-to-day, the worrying never stops, does it? We know worrying doesn't help, we recognize how it hoovers up our positive vibes, we see the muddied puddles it leaves after stomping through our minds, and yet we are all hard-pressed at stopping its onslaught.
So for this precious weekend unfurling at our feet, I bow my head and pray that all these dusty whorls plaguing those I love (and those I have yet to love) will remain lifeless, stay in "corpse" pose upon silent floorboards and allow us all some peace. Namaste. =)
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