(no subject)

I've always remembered a scene from a fantasy book I read once, which has now been mostly forgotten, but the scene had the main character and her friends weaving fire. The main character hands one of the weavings off to a friend and watches for a moment. Her friend works more quickly than she does, but the pieces of fire often slip from her grasp and are barely caught before they escape to set the surrounding forest on fire. I came away from the book with the understanding that part of life is knowing when to move slowly and when to jump ahead and risk losing a piece of flame. And last year I learned that sometimes life mandates the pace you must work at and that success should be measured by the final weaving, not if a few strands were almost lost along the way. And then, when the fire is woven, it is time to find something else to challenge the mind, the fingers and, in essence, the spirit.


This began as a comment to someone on my friends list and became much too introspective, so it goes in my journal instead:)