The small ant struggles beneath the carcasses of crumb it carries
I can barely see it’s tiny legs beneath
Relentlessly it marches
The crumb sways
I hold my breath in sympathy
And I feel like that is Christmas this year
All the plans
Preparations
The heavy burden it turns into
“Drop it, it’s not worth it” I whisper
But the ant keeps on regardless
And so must I
- Reality hits after a week-end of escaping on the bike, into the unknown. The high of racing storms, being buffetted by wind – battling real challenges instead of the mind produced kind.
- But it’s till coming, Christmas and the insanely compressed period before it arrives. To wrap up not just carefully chosen presents and work projects but meal planning for parties and cooking and cleaning for guests and all the other thousands of small and large things.
- It can all feel overwhelming to think about.
- And that little ant – at least what she is carrying is real – much of mine is heavy from the thinking ahead.
- Sometimes the head feels like a massive crumb
- The legs can barely carry
- But what a week-end of wonderful escaping it was – so perhaps I’ll share that instead – but in another post a little later in the week.
- Header photo : hats on the wall at the Nindigully pub, all labelled with their owners name – so many hats we wear – it seemed like an appropriate photo for this time of year.
