restless
May 1, 2016 § 2 Comments
As the rain relentlessly pelts the already soggy ground, I can feel discomfort chafe at my pleasure.
The question of what we could do pulling the joy from beneath the perfection of empty hours. Harmony cloaked in a blanket that scratches at the tenderness of stillness.
There is no thread to pull, no itch to scratch, only a pesky question to challenge the simple elegance of nothing.
I start over, determinedly, with gratitude until I forget the shape of my unrest.
It is a predictable predicament, this hastily exaggerated need; a pattern of fault that speaks light to the shadows of my best intentions.
A momentary indulgence or lingering want that distracts me from the uncomplicated ease of contentment.
scribblechic 
A lovely chance to meditate…at least a little gentle music in the background will sooth the chafing 🙂
I sometimes overlook the productive work of discomfort. We learn it, first, in childhood; that restless churning that we channel into creative curiosities.