I spent the night battling sleep, my mind ensnared by financial concerns and a laptop’s untimely demise. Thoughts eddied like leaves in a stiff breeze — scattered, chaotic, and unrelenting. Miles Davis played the role of uninvited guest, his haunting tracks It’s Never Entered My Mind and Weirdo floating through the night like vaporous whispers — delicate yet intrusive.
Marsha Henry’s text arrived as a pleasant surprise — thoughtful yet tinged with concern. She praised my blog’s elegance but doubted that modern readers, conditioned by tweets and sound bites, would linger long enough to digest thoughtful prose.
Her concern was fair. In a world obsessed with immediacy, long-form writing often feels like a forgotten language. Yet I believe depth demands patience.
Albert Camus once wrote:
“A man’s work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.”
That quote spoke directly to my blog’s purpose — a deliberate space where reflection and nuance take center stage. I responded with two thoughtful texts explaining my motives — not to court popularity, but to offer a platform where ideas breathe deeply, unhurried by trends.
Marsha’s reply brought relief. She agreed that meaningful content — however unfashionable — still resonates with readers willing to invest their time. Her words reminded me that thoughtful writing isn’t about attracting the masses but rather reaching those seeking substance.
The morning rain sketched streaks across my window, drawing patterns that danced and dissolved on the glass. The sky, a quilt of heavy clouds, brooded over the day. Yet strangely, my mood remained calm — grounded.
Despite my lingering shoulder irritation, I committed to 30 minutes of focused exercise. Each push-up felt like defiance — a conscious decision to assert strength despite discomfort. Perseverance isn’t merely about enduring pain; it’s about transcending it.
Reflections of Gratitude
The day — though cluttered with frustration — revealed quiet moments of grace.
Marsha’s kind words reminded me that meaningful work doesn’t require a crowd to feel worthwhile. AD’s perseverance underscored the quiet fortitude required to press on in difficult times. Even the broken laptop — frustrating as it was — became a lesson in adaptation, a reminder that when one path falters, another often presents itself.
As Søren Kierkegaard once observed:
“Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.”
Today’s burdens — financial concerns, technical failures, and lingering doubts — seemed less formidable in light of that truth. Life’s meaning often reveals itself in hindsight, and patience becomes the quiet companion that leads us there.
RMS INSIGHTS ✍🏾 