Time and the rocking chair (a mini-story).

Time and the rocking chair (a mini-story).

rocking chair

I sat in my rocking chair today. It's a significant event for me because I hardly ever slow down to sit in my rocking chair. 
My rocking chair wears many hats. It takes my postural instabilities, and for a moment, makes them feel as if I've never had them. My rocking chair compresses my problems. My worries. My insecurities. Quite frankly, I'm surprised my rocking chair is still capable of supporting my ass.

But today, I let it all go. No, not my rocking chair. But everything I gave to it. I usually pick it all back up the moment I remove myself from my rocking chair. But today, for the first time ever, I saw everything I gave to my rocking chair fall to the ground - and disappear. 

Time gave me the chance to be with my rocking chair. Time showed me how precious I was. Time showed me how transient my preciousness is. Time showed me that my rocking chair won't always be there. Time showed me that everything I gave to my rocking chair was beautiful, no matter how hard, how inconceivable, how sad, or how hideous those things appeared to be. 

Because as I removed myself from the rocking chair, in a few fleeting moments, it all hit the ground. And even if my precious hand decides to pick them up again, it'll never be the same. 

Time made sure of that. And it made sure to show me why it's most important. 

. . . If you'd like to see some of the things I dropped from the rocking chair, start with this letter that fell first.

Letter 1, dropped from my rocking chair.

Letter 1, dropped from my rocking chair.

My inconsistency with rap music: A note on authenticity, consistency, and hustle (part 1).

My inconsistency with rap music: A note on authenticity, consistency, and hustle (part 1).