Done. What does that mean? Whats done? As in dinner, or as in you, me or the world? When do we know? How do we know? In what context does “done” represent?
I may say I’m done. You may say it too. Is it the me that’s feeling done, as in completion of…? Or is it something more that I know yet just can’t wrap my head around. I do know when I am aware of it yet life is way more complicated than that. Life is not simple and being done is never something that minimal. Done is more than its definition. It’s more that the sequence of events that could point you in that direction. It’s the very stop sign that stands tall and upright, right in front of your face. Sometimes done is invisible. Sometimes it wears clothing it doesn’t represent and sometimes it just is.
Done like dinner and yet we even screw that up. How many times are we done and we never act on it, change the channel or pull dinner out of the oven when we are meant to. We are, creatures of habit. We are over achievers. We can’t seem to get it when the plate is empty and it’s meant to stay empty, not to be filled again with same out stuff. Over and over we go round the Mulberry bush, singing rhymes of yesterday.
Say done, when you mean it. Say done when it’s time to let go. Say done when you can’t seem to get it and the repetition is too much for you to handle. There is no regret in being done. There is no fear in deciding to be done and when you’re done it’s time to stand up, walk away from the table and be done. Sometimes that Mulberry bush needs to be uprooted and replaced with a bed of flowers, something more appreciative and sensed.
Do nothing and everything is done for you is nice to say yet if you don’t ever get off the fence….? “Pete and repeat sat on a fence, Pete fell off, now who was left?” You know the rif and that’s what we do all the time repeat the old, outdated over done dinners we have served ourselves for ages. It’s time for difference.
Peace Out and if your in British Columbia like me Happy Family Day.