I thoroughly enjoy William Carlos Williams' poetry. I've blogged about him before. The past six weeks have been tumultuous, and while I've worked extremely hard at waiting and allowing, I'm not gonna lie, it's been tough. Patience, while I believe it is my virtue, is also my vice. I do fine at waiting, then I get jumpy and in my head. I clear my head, go to my heart, and I'm fine, and then I slip back into my head, and even though there's no rational way of explaining my "situation," I get frustrated, irritated, and anxious. Then I pray, meditate, pause, and I'm good, until . . . And the cycle is vicious and taxing.
Tonight, at the 13th hour, some things came together. And I'm still a little suspicious, a tad hesitant, a bit skeptical, but . . .
I'm reminded of William Carlos Williams piece, The Red Wheelbarrow.