Wednesday 11 AM
I made a sticky mess this morning.
I tried to clean it up but only managed to spread it around into a bigger, thinner sticky patch. I thought I would scrape it all back together again and start from scratch. Well, I did
get it all together again, but it was a different kind of stick mess - with dust and crumbs and curly hairs in it.
"This is a good metaphor for life." I thought. Life is about change. You can always change your mind, but if you change some
things you can't always change them back again, even if you have changed your mind.
"Where on Earth did that thought come from?" I wondered. Then I remembered: I have a letter to post. I think it's finished and says all the things I want to say, and says them in a way I would like to say them, but I'm never sure. I was reminding myself that once I have put the letter in the postbox I can't un-post it.
On the other hand, like I thought before, life is all about change. If I don't post the letter then nothing will have changed, so I won't have a life.
I think I've taught myself something valuable. I can post things and have a life, or not post things and save the worry about not un-posting them. Two clear choices.