move through life slowly and do it with grace,

grandma said to me.

make your way like you’re walking through water;

glide.

i have not been brilliantly successful, i must confess, since

by nature, or nurture,

my movements are haphazard and clumsy,

made more so by haste and impulsivity.

the racing thoughts and shifting chaos

that roll through my brain are reflected in quick movements

and absent poise.

i’m too easily distracted for serenity,

ever a fan of the shiny thing, and the

regular bruising, both psychic and corporeal

are evidence of my unfocused and wayward thoughts.

apologies to grandmama for my failings,

though i’ve tried,

but evidence suggests that

a gliding and graceful life is more suited

to someones who are not me.