I woke up the other night with an analogy on my mind that stole my sleep. It spoke to me plainly, as though I was having a conversation with someone directly.
I was carrying a big rock. It was heavy and hard to handle. People kept asking me to do things that meant I couldn't put the rock down. I'd smile and do the best I could - but physically, it was almost doing me in. I kept telling myself I was crazy to keep carrying this rock, but the truth was, I had no choice.
I carried it through teaching adults and children. I carried it in meetings where we talked about the rock. I carried it while I was bowling. I carried it while having to talk to crowds about all the great things going on. I would ask if I could put it down every time - but people would smile and shake their heads and tell me I'd figure it out. They'd try to ignore the rock mostly, but now and then would ask how it's going carrying that rock. I asked if I could have some tools to help me with this rock. I asked if I could have some time to figure out how to put it down. All the time, the answer was, "Sorry. You have to figure out how to do more than one thing at a time."
Tonight I finally put down the rock. I'm going to have to figure out how to break this rock into pieces so that my sciatic nerve doesn't rebel against me for a month ever again.
