Change

I wonder why change is so disruptive and so invigorating at the same time. I was thinking last night that change is like stirring a giant pot of stew. You look into the pot and it looks a certain way, but then when you mix it up you see all different kinds of things that you hadn't seen for a while. If you continuously stir then the thing won't cook, but if you leave it too long then it burns. 

I seem to have a tendency to let it sit for too long, and for some reason I get very hesitant to stir. Once I do I see the burnt bits that sat for too long and also all the amazing things that I put in the stew in the first place. I'm both exhilarated to be cooking, and disappointed that I let it sit for so long. I tell my self that this time it will be different, this time I'll be attentive to the stew, but somehow it slips out of my consciousness. I smell it burning but I don't do anything about it. I see it burning and I don't do anything about it until finally something stirs me into action. Then I'm invigorated by the change and angry that I wasn't more attentive and I vow that this time I'll be more attentive, and thus begins the cycle anew. I'd like to keep my stew in my mind and stir it when it needs to be stirred. I'd like to be able to attend to things in their right time.