I wonder how the honeybee feels in the quiet company of the hornet. For if everything in the universe vibrates, I can imagine that the beating of bigger wings should make our humble bee feel quite out of sorts.

There are moments when I wonder if time passes through me differently than everyone else. I dig my heels in against what others will forward. I race through the moments that people suck on like prized gum drops. I can’t seem to find the waltz that syncopates the parts of life that need steeping. Maybe it’s my imagination, but it seems easier for others to find their footing, to know quite where to step.

And so much of my day becomes awe and despair at the concept that people do these things everyday. Quiet moments of resolve where I decide not to give up just yet. Over and over I tell myself that I am strong enough. And over and over I wonder how much that is true.

The best parts of life are prizes won of worthy games. At one point, everyone was the last in line. Eventually they became the first. Everyone’s number is called someday, but not if they step out of line. I’m fortunate that the sources of my turmoils are beautiful and worthwhile. I am grateful for the opportunity to struggle for them. And over and over I tell myself I’m strong enough to claim them, while over and over they bring me to my knees.