Note: The following piece was written in a poetic-prose style as a piece of flash fiction. Intentionally.
I was looking for my planner the other day and I realized I didn’t know where it was and then I panicked because I can use my internet calendar instead of my paper calendar and I can create an individual check-off list for each day and I can probably remember what I need to do anyway because I’ve written everything down at least once anyway but nonetheless I can feel my stress levels rising because? but being able to check the boxes calms me and I like knowing that everything is up to date and in one place so I keep searching, digging through papers and book and looking on top of and underneath and just praying, praying, praying that I can find the physical thing that shouldn’t bring me peace but nonetheless does and as I ask myself, why am I doing this? I realize, or rather ask myself, am I trying to do the thing where I’m self-reliant again and forgetting my place in the universe and how I can’t really do anything on my own even when I think I can, that when I think I can is, in fact, the time that I most need to lean on God??? so I take a second to pause—and then I keep going on with my life but trying to do it while having open hands, at least in my heart, and forget about my planner almost (but not quite) and then as I clean my room! shock of shockers, I find my planner beneath all the other crap and books and socks on top of my dresser and I’m relieved but it’s not the end of anything or the beginning of anything else and the fact that it doesn’t shift gravity is probably a good thing. Maybe I’m learning to let go of boxes.