Burning The Candle
About half a year ago I got this candle as a gift from a very dear friend of mine. At first sight it looked kind of plain; a straight cylinder shaped blue candle. But when it had been lit for a while I could really see how beautiful it was. The color was just on the outside, and as the white center melted down the edges stayed leaving a semi-transparent wall of wax. The candle looked alive somehow with its flickering light.
I wanted to save the candle for as long as I could, and had it only lit for a short time every morning at breakfast. It became almost a ritual, and those moments filled me with great pleasure. But one day the inevitable happened and the center reached its bottom.
Although I wouldn't give up on this without a fight! Surely, there must be something I could do? I took a tealight out of its metal cover and placed it inside the empty blue shell of wax and - voilà! - the candle had another few hours left to live. For every burnt down tealight I put in another one. I have an endless supply here.
Of course nothing lasts forever, and the other day the wall finally gave in. Becoming too thin it couldn't withstand the heat from my tealights for ever, and as soon it started to melt it all ran out. All that's left now are the stiff residues covering the stones and pebbles I had placed the candle on.
4 comments:
Karin, how are you doing? I sense unrest, most likely because I'm soaked in it 24 hours a day myself. I'm so tired of feeling sad and unbalanced I feel like going to bed to sleep for an entire year.
I don't envy your situation, and I admire you for being able to make choices and decisions when you're sad. I know your move will do you the world of good, but I also understand the apprehension that these big changes in life and destination create!!
Now, sad is the word, you're right about that. When things come to an end, it's hard not just break down and cry. Tears are constantly burning behind the eyelids. But I know myself well enough by now, to realize it's the sum of it all, and the actual stress of moving that make other issues seem so enormous.
Remember also that for something new to begin, there has to be endings.
Tell me about it!! It's the crossover that is painful, but once you've started you become to busy to grieve - one of these days I'll work up enough courage to venture back out into the world - some Karin courage :)
Me? Courageous!? Or just too bloody stupid to see the cliff?
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