-Hammarskjöld
Time is slow now. Slow and deliberate, in a way that makes me blissfully pensive, but also heavy and burdensome, in a way that makes me weary. The heaviness of an arm, bearing down on the shoulder, pulling down at the mind, grasping at something with hopeful expectation, only to limp away, defeated. I am reminded of Kunderas' dichotomy of lightness and heaviness, and the conclusion he draws:
"The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously the image of life’s most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become."
What is real and truthful is that there are still many reasons to be joyful: pancakes for breakfast, extra warmth at night, a successful shower, myriad thoughtful emails, increased dexterity in one-handed typing...perhaps that is a stretch. Certainly the over-abundance of frustrations and disappointments obfuscate the dimly positive moments, but I suppose that is part of the challenge.
So now, as my fingers grow fatigued from clumsiness, I ask: lightness or heaviness? Or underneath it all is it just love's calm unwavering flame in the half-light of an early dawn?