Overwhelmed with everyday blocks.
They relentlessly tumble off the pile at me, even as I try to keep them balanced, to keep putting them back in place, ones and twos and threes at a time.
It all starts when my unsteady hand causes one piece to wobble.
It knocks the next one out of its space, which bumps the next one, which nudges the next one, which pushes the next one, which unlodges the next one, which upsets the next one, until
two, three, four, five and more come plummeting down from the stack, and scatter, clatter around me in a mess.
And then, for a moment, at least, nothing is falling.
A hint of control and peace, for a moment.
Do I gather the cubes around me, and try to add them back to the stack? Do I remember where each one goes? Can I get them to fit together like they did before?
Or
Do I somehow work from the teetering tower in front of me? Do I even see a starting place? Can I keep what’s left in order?
Either way, I know I’ll misplace a block, and the tumbling will start again.
Once I was an expert stacker, a clever packer, a tower builder and block keeper. Blocks were easy to handle, my hands were steady, my mind was sharp.
Today I am an expert fumbler, a clever crumbler, a tower breaker and scattering-block leaper. *A* block is sometimes too much to handle, my hands are unsure, and my mind… my mind is overwhelmed, with everyday blocks.
