Feeling Like a Pin-Ball

We've all played pin-ball, right? That silver ball gets shot up the right side, and it's GAME ON!
It bounces and pops and jumps all over the place. It gets swatted at too ... in an effort to get it bouncing, popping and jumping all over the place again.

It has been one of those days!
[Mondays are sometimes like this for me (as of late) because my focus goes toward career enhancement and depending on many-a-factor this can be an inspiration or a debacle]

A day where the over-active mind wins out more often than not.
A day where I felt strewn (is that even a word?) about - all over the place and back again.
A day where the perception of my career path is more like an obstacle course/maze rather than a discernible path.
A day where I went to bed feeling beat up (by my own mind), accepting that 'it is what it is' and I don't have to figure it out NOW. Actually a pretty good place to be, because I could feel the calm of 'surrender.'

Then! I pick up my book and open to my mid-chapter bookmarked page. I have no idea where I am in the story, what's going on (probably because I'm still in my head) ... but I begin reading.

After two pages, I'm smiling BIG.
LIFE speaks to us in oh-so-many ways ... if we're paying attention.

It's not that it gave me answers ... but spoke to me, IT DID.

I read of a man who was a biologist, but always wanted to be a blacksmith (but it wouldn't make him enough money). The first, obvious gem ... "Well, when you grow tired of being what you're not, go and have fun and celebrate life, hammering metal into shape. In time, you'll discover that it will give you more than pleasure, it will give you meaning." (move in the direction of who you are, what makes you happy ... regardless of society, money, etc. duh?! wink)

So, he starts splitting his time between biology and blacksmith apprenticeship. Tired but happier. And, "just when he was starting to believe in life, things got markedly worse."

Huh?

He goes on to describe the process the steel goes through when changing its form into the desired, useful object. Fire, hammering, cold water ... again and again, and perhaps again. Every once in a while, a piece of steel can't handle the treatment and is thrown in the scrap pile.

Hmmmmm?

The section ended with this: "Please God, my Mother, don't give up until I've taken on the shape that you wish for me. Do this by whatever means you think best, for as long as you like, but never ever throw me on the scrap heap of souls."

YEAH.

Pin-ball days. Smooth-sailing days. Keep on, Keeping on.

LOVE.