You used to remember the exact page,
now you find yourself reaching for bookmarks
and
put it down to incipient age –
the
wrists a bit stiff, the spines a bit dark,
the
sense somehow vague, the words somewhat blurred,
and
following the plot requiring more work,
the
pristine white of leaves somewhat more weathered.
The
eyes and the wrists instinctively know
where
and when to rest, where and how to stop,
what
to hold steadfast and what to let go,
which
ones to explore and which to just drop.
The
flesh isn’t weak – it can push its limits
but
it’s just plain wise, it knows to give up,
to
withdraw, shut down and blindly submit.
It isn't really about bookmarks now, is it?
It's to do with not faffing around. It's about consciously choosing the growth path of the patience quotient. Becoming patient with stuff that matters but ruthlessly uncompromising with how the minutes, even the seconds are used. Zero waste. Tomorrow is not a given, it never was, only you were having too much fun to notice. And ignorance may be bliss but it is still ignorance and it certainly ends up being wasteful. Time's limited, space is too, you are more than halfway, oh, much more than that, to using up your quotas.
Those few seconds you've just spent in locating the exact para where you left off? Nope, they are not coming back. Therefore, no harm in being lean and mean with how the balance is spent. A little more mindfulness in cutting to the chase and cramming in as much ___ (love, food, fun, laughter, hiking, skydiving, reading, blogging, partying, catching up with friends, etc. - insert as appropriate) as possible while you're at it. If bookmarks can help with that...bring them on!
Have a lovely week ahead.
