I sometimes feel like I'm spread as thin as a skiff of butter on a slice of toast.
Hit and miss.
Barely there.
Don't think that I'm claiming to be too busy, although I've had those seasons in my life; those times when a heady combination of duty and pleasure keep your feet skimming just above the ground.
Instead, I feel like I have become fallow land.
But is that a bad thing?
Perhaps something is happening that I can't see.
Something green and fresh.
Just under the surface.
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Hello!
ReplyDeleteHaving found my way here I'm reading back through a few of your posts, and what a gem this one is, I know that feeling exactly, and fallow perfectly describes it :o)