Limits is not really a word I carry around in my vocabulary. I prefer words that form sentences like - leap without looking and where angels fear to tread. But lately, I've come to the realisation that perhaps for my own sanity I need to set maybe one or two little ones here and there.
I think I've been pushing myself too hard. There's so much I wish to achieve, yet not enough hours in the day or, more realistically, energy in this mind and body. By trying to win at everything, I think I'm coming in a medicore average at all. Some focus wouldn't go amiss, a concentration on one thing at a time. My mind is a tangle of thoughts, ambitions and ideas all competing for attention and getting themselves mixed and messed up.
Night time offers no rest when dreams get mixed in with reality and I awake in a state of confusion. It took me a while to realise this morning that I hadn't actually just had dinner with the Queen, Princess Anne and the late Edward and Mrs Simpson. Edward and I shared a cheeky glass of vintage wine that he'd hidden from his father... Interestingly, the Queen and Princess Anne resembled their current selves but Edward looked like Guy Pierce... (guess what I watched at the weekend!). Colin Firth was strangely absent. Perhaps he was busy off being Mr Darcy in someone else's dream.
The illustration for this post was prompted by Illustration Friday's 'swarm' topic and the book I am reading - Of Bees and Mist by Erick Setiawan. One of the characters - Eva, a rather wicked woman carries a swarm of bees around her to torture those she seeks to influence. A kind of nagging annoyance that saps the spirit and bends you to her will.
My head feels like it has been infected by her bees at the moment and I think it's time they found someone else to bother - or better still, went back to the business of making honey - a far sweeter occupation. Is a bee invasion a warning that I'm reaching my limit?
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