When it don't come easy

Whenever I meet with a time of particular trying inactivity I feel my patience being forced into a hundred and three pushups. With every hope of a new opportunity there is the surge of energy allowing me to rise up and glimpse the possibility that my waiting is at an end. Then with every disappointment I sink back down until my proverbial nose touches the floor, inhaling a fresh dose of oxygen, looking for the inspiration necessary to make me press myself up again.

Even as my will wains I know that my patience is being conditioned into a stronger, more dependable core element of my humanity. I'm getting those few steps closer to accomplishing a genuinely meditative existence. This is a constant goal albeit I find enough distractions en route to its accomplishment.

I refuse to be held to the ground by mere gravity. It's a constant and therefore I am already well aware of its persistent pull. I have built up a resistance to its finite limitation. I have superseded its deadweight. While I may find myself in limbo at this time it is no guarantee that I shall never reach the base of the mountain, beginning my lofty climb.

And soon, so very soon, I shall reach the summit, above the clouds, and see the stars.