Hanging by a Thread

Nights are long, days are short

The hours seem mixed up.

We all run in circles that brings us back where we started 24 hours ago.

In bed ready to start the next day

So much to do so little time its the new mantra of the day

4am and 5am clubs new cool kids on the block

24 hours, 1440 minutes, 86400 seconds in everyday not one more nor one less.

Do more, achieve more, be better, grow that’s what we are asked to do.

Less time, less family, less of me, less of you happens all the time

Through all of this we are hanging by threads

Threads that makes the cord that weaves the tapestry master piece we call life.

Threads of emotions

Threads of education

Threads of family

Threads of finances

Threads of jobs

Threads of health

Threads of marriage

Threads of yourself

All brightly coloured, each unique in every way.

Some days or weeks some these threads catch, pull, runs off its spool and it all falls apart

Other times we catch the thread intime pick it up and are able to salvage our tapestry direction

and carry on weaving our life.

We have no idea what our picture will be, we all have an ideal,

but the truth is, as we hang by our threads, day by day in our lives

We are not the artist but the mere servant of the weave

Thread colours change,

Thread amounts change

thread thickness’ change,

Threads get dirty

Tapestry needles grow blunt

Spools break

positions change

Weavers change

all are things that shows in our tapestry of life.

A picture we all look at and in the end gives us a perfectly unique vision.

A picture we believe is perfectly balanced, yet are we objective?

Depends on where you are when you view it.

Near, far, above, below

A picture is only as clear and balanced as the eyes its seen through.

Objective we believe we are, but our tapestry is filled with bias and likes, threads that we prefer, the star of the show.

Next time we hang by our threads and we drop a thread,

By choice

by chance

By force

Embrace that and keep weaving that tapestry called life because in the end,

We are all subjective and only see the part we are weaving now…who knows that dropped thread might be the key to a master peace

That we had no idea could be