At my desk is a chair I bought several years ago. It has served as a backup until recently, collecting dust in a spare room. That is, until the fake leather of my go-to chair had flaked off to the point of not being able to stand the little black flecks scattered around the room. The backup-now-go-to is decent enough and it gets the job done. But I now remember why it was banished.
When I sit down everything is well and fine, that is, until I stop focusing on what I’m doing and realize things are a bit higher than when I first began my task. The chair needs continual adjustment because it has this bad habit of slowly lowering itself, so much that I don’t even realize it as it’s happening.
And, I’ll tell you, I’ve felt like this chair behaves for more days than I can remember. A slow lowering from the pressure of life, the letdowns, and the questions about the future. I’m glad for the little adjustments which lift me higher, but I keep wondering if the problems are going to ever get fixed. In the chair’s case, there’s only so much I can do before I simply break down and buy a new one. I know that’s not my fate, and I’m holding onto hope that in all these things there’s a better future ahead.
I had a thought yesterday and gives some perspective: