F-O-C-U-s

Focus. It eludes me. Nothing is the center of my attraction. Nothing keeps my attention. Nothing is in alignment. My life feels tilted off its axis. My mind needs to be recalibrated. My heart is off balance.

“Concentrate!” I tell myself.

Grade those papers. Reserve those plane tickets. Make that Grammar Test. Walk the dog. Sweep the snow off the porch. Write those lesson plans. Sew on the quilt. Make the soup. Knead the bread. Vacuum the floor. Finish the taxes. Order classroom materials for next year.  Grade. Reserve. Make. Walk, Sweep, Write. Sew. Knead. Vacuum. Finish. Order.

It all swirls around me like the wind outside, blowing snow against the window, making it difficult to see outside. It surrounds me, making it difficult to see outside myself.

“Stop!” I yell into the wind.

The word blows back into my face, back into my throat, where it sticks like peanut butter, only it tastes bitter and makes me choke.

I take another sip of coffee.

“It’s too much,” I whisper to my dog.

But, it’s not. I rise to another day. I grade another paper.

The real storm is not outside my window, but inside my soul. Lost. Wandering. Years of death, disappointment, failure, and abuse add up like the snowdrift against the front door. Every time I open the door, it cascades over me. I can barely see the sky when it blows in again. Surely, the storm will pass. Perhaps I need to quit opening the door.