Worrying is exhausting.
Sometimes we don’t like the answers.
Sometimes we appeal a response because we know that the words being thrown our way are simply unjust.
The waiting period for someone to hear our plea of reason often seems interminable.
The despair of the reality becomes the norm and the mind goes to locations where worries are exacerbated and augmented by the lull of the wait.
Our mind travels to dark places, imagining scenarios where the end result is unpleasant and so distant from the locales of happy where we find most comfort.
The hours spent on the isle of fret cannot be helped as anxiety enters our days and clouds our own judgement.
But we must focus on the positive, recognizing the merits of our argument, identifying the pitfalls in theirs and holding firm to our resolve that justice can and will prevail.
This too shall pass. This too shall pass. These words become a mantra of hope.
These hours where balance is fraught with the inconsistency of life events as seen through incongruous viewpoints, are but temporary. This too shall pass (but when?).
There will soon be another time to breathe and look back on the lesson, valuable as it has become.
There will be time to reflect on the journey, the detour and the ultimate destination.
There will be time to enjoy the fruits of the labor.
The hours I write about will soon be here, but until then we wait – impatiently, we wait.
And we worry.