My shovel slices into raw earth.
It's not coming out; no matter what I do, it won't be removed.
I am much older.
The shovel, still immobile.
So I jump on the spade and hear it cut deeper; lodging into compacted cinder and grassy tangled roots.
I step off the metal head.
I sit upon the warm moist land.
I close my eyes.
Life is humming.
Emptying all from the mind.
Pouring distractions and expectations into the passing trade wind.
Time quiets it's pace.
My eyes open and fix upon the ground; never looking at the vertical handle.
The earth releases its hold as my outstretched arm gently lifts the shovel from its resting place.
When think you are stuck, gently breathe and center your entire being. Don't focus on the challenge at hand. Instead concentrate your energy cooperatively with positive surrounding energies and see your goal, realized. What is meant to be, will be; in its own time.
Created: May 13, 2017nyx.child79 Document Media