one drop
sometimes, it only takes one drop to make a big difference.
you can take an empty glass and add water with an eyedropper, slowly and carefully, one drop at a time, and it will gradually fill to a point where the next addition of one single drop will cause the water to spill over the edge.
just one drop can do that.
it’s like the straw that breaks the camel’s back. it’s not that one straw all on its own, but the cumulative effect of the addition of one more straw to an existing stack that makes the whole thing too much for the figurative camel to bear.
sometimes, the universe fills our life glasses one drop at a time, and it’s not until that lone meniscus-breaking drop falls that something transformative happens. sometimes, it takes that solitary, otherwise-benign drop – which, on its own, might be inconsequential – to cause a shift. a change. a new perspective. the spillage that leads to a new beginning.
sometimes, we add the drops ourselves. sometimes, other people add them. sometimes, it’s both.
sometimes, we recognize the drops as they’re added and we wait in anticipation for that metamorphic one. sometimes, we go in search of them, collecting them as we go. and sometimes, they land in our glasses all on their own... so quietly, so gently, so subtly and unexpectedly that they’re almost unnoticed.
but when that final one lands in your glass, regardless of how long the drops have been falling or how many times you think your glass couldn’t possible hold one more, you know.
then, for better or worse, your glass spills over and the world is instantly different.
6 comments:
beautiful thoughts ((((vic)))).
I'm thinking that when cups runneth over, it's a good thing. But the overflow you describe doesn't seem necessarily good. It's how the drops enter that seems to matter, yes?
When I was young, I had an encounter with a carnival machine built on this principle. It had a tray of coins which seemed like it was on the verge of tipping over and releasing some prize, and you fed coins into the machine to encourage it along. I don't remember exactly how much money I lost (or, more correctly, how much of my parents' money I lost). I do recall that when we walked by half an hour later, the prize still hadn't been won.
All of that to say: sometimes waiting for that one last drop can drag on a lot longer than we'd like!
thanks, moob!
in this particular instance, lou, how the drops fell is probably as important as the end result (which is positive). but the collective power of seemingly tiny things is also on my mind.
and yep, matt, that's very true!
hmm....my v word.....
bulle
that in no way reflects this reader's opinion of this entry.
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