Writing > A Z

Patience is a hard thing to maintain. It helps to remember that progress only ever happens as fast as it does. Accepting this is not the same as acquiescing to the status quo. The difference is the application of pressure. I cannot slack or dawdle and expect to move anywhere, but neither can I simply leap past the slowly plodding horizon of knowing and bound effortlessly from realization to realization. The unavoidable reality of this limitation does not stop me from trying to "figure it all out." In my ardent attempts I travel down winding and branching somatic paths that at a certain point grow so large and diffuse, so stretched and cast into the possible probability of future understanding, that meaning breaks down. To get past this failure, past this point of collapse, I must travel the path again. The second trip is faster and when I reach my previous end, I push forward into undiscovered country until again understanding slips away and I have to begin anew. While repeatedly hammering against the unknown possesses a certain John Henry-esc futility, it does incrementally move the trailing edge of understanding forward like a lunging team of dogs slowly dragging a heavily laden sled.