The days just keep rolling, don’t they? Like the ebb and flow of the tide – morning rolls in, bringing light-filled skies, we hit the ground running, and before you can blink an eye, another day recedes into night. I prefer that metaphor over the sand in an hourglass. Though it’s true I have a limited number of days on this shore, I believe I will carry on on a different one. The sand doesn’t really run out, or at least that’s my thought on the matter.
Wow. Pretty deep for a Tuesday. Where do I go after that start? How about a quick detour into the meaning of it all? I may need more coffee for that one …
Some days I have to acknowledge the elephant in the room before I can get anywhere. Today is one of those days. Today, the questions are rising. Today, I’m wondering whether this is anything more than my rambling on about not much of anything.
I don’t feel like I’ve had any profound revelations yet. I just keep filling up pages. Maybe if I could write a poem, I would feel better? Something that at least moves me? Hmmm … nope. Not a clue. So I ask the question, where does it come from? Where does the inspiration begin? Within? Or from somewhere else? And, if so, how do I access that place?
I am reminded of those seekers who headed west during the Gold Rush of 1849. To quote Yosemite Sam, “Thar’s gold in them thar hills!” Treasure hunting has always fascinated me. It doesn’t matter whether it’s panning for gold, digging for gemstones, tracking down pirate booty, or even uncovering dinosaur bones – I love the idea of it all. The patience and tenacity it requires, all in the hope of a big payoff at the end. And who knows? You might find something that could change the whole trajectory of your life! It’s definitely on my bucket list.
Here’s the thing about those California gold miners – they didn’t know what they were going to find. There were no guarantees. They just showed up every day, with a pickax or a pan in hand, chipping away, sifting through silt or rubble. Day after day after day, all with the hope of hitting the motherlode.
That’s how this feels on most days. I show up with a tool in my hand – in my case, a Pentel Click 0.7 in sky blue – and I mine my mind for clues, words, thoughts, and ideas, hoping I will strike the A-HA motherlode of wit and wisdom. Like me, I’m sure there were days when those miners wanted to quit. How many times did they come up empty? How many days did they have nothing to show for their hard labor but a pile of rocks and stone? And yet they came back, again and again, day after day. Perseverance. Tenacity. Hope. More powerful than a stick of dynamite in the gold-mining world. And a mighty powerful trifecta in my world too.
So, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll show up, day after day. (Not too shabby that I get to labor away in a comfortable chair with a cup of coffee at hand. Those prospectors would surely scoff at my version of a hard life.) There are no guarantees in life, but those who are willing to show up with perseverance, tenacity, and hope definitely increase their odds. And I want to be counted among them. And who knows? Maybe there really is gold in them thar hills? I do know one thing is for sure, there’s only one way of finding out.
Are you in, Cath? Yep. I’m in. I am all in.
How about you? What are you all in for?
❤️ Cath