One thing I’ve learned is

the thing I do first is the thing

that gets done.

And if I don’t do it first,

whatever the thing is I most want to get done,

it often doesn’t get done

at all.

Or if it does,

it’s at the end of the day,

pushing right p into tomorrow,

when today is edging over into yesterday.

Crammed in at the last minute

is no way to treat what you love.

Just sayin’.

[scs_alt]

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It slips in when you’re not looking,

like poison in your drink.

It eats away at your insides,

feeding on comparison

like maggots feeding on rotting flesh.

Once it has its hooks in you,

you won’t pull them out easily.

Those proverbial seeds send roots into your soul

and shoots through your heart and mind.

Confidence in pieces on the floor.

Tread carefully among the shards.

The path you thought was safe

may not be.

[scs_alt]

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Quick note to subscribers: I’m off on my mini-honeymoon for the next few days. I’ll still be writing my 3x5s, but won’t be posting til I return. FYI. Have a great weekend! xo,Melissa

Could there be anything more paralyzing than limitlessness?

When anything goes, nothing usually does.

I rebel against strictures, but without anything to rub against, how do you get any traction?

It’s like floating in space, gravityless, no cord attaching you to anything.

Helpless.

But put on a light chain — light, mind you — and blossoms start sprouting willy-nilly.

[scs_alt]

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Competitive sports made my stomach clench.

The days the teacher announced

we were going outside

to play kickball

were days

I wished

I could

disappear.

If anyone had bothered to teach me the skills required —

kicking

catching

throwing a ball —

perhaps it wouldn’t have been so torturous.

Some of the kids even found it fun —

the ones who were good at it.

For me it was the lowest

level

of

hell.

Tossed into shark-infested waters

without a life preserver.

Sink or swim, kid.

I invariably sank.

[scs_alt]

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Had I known what was to come,

I’d have taken a different path,

one with fewer brambles,

potholes,

and mudslides.

But what then?

Without the scrapes

and bruises

and scars I accumulated,

would I even be me?

Would I ever have mined

the gold within?

Would I have met you?

In an alternate universe somewhere,

another me is living a live

born of wiser choices,

but is she happier?

Or did she merely stumble through

a different set of brambles,

potholes

and mudslides?

Is the wiser me

wiser in the end?

[scs_alt]

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