Tend Towards

[R] There is a Rock

There is a rock.  I can see it from here.

It lies there, across the stream. 

It's not a particularly remarkable rock, in any sense of the term, other than how it probably took millions of years to form. But then again, so did the ones around it.

It's not an exceptionally interesting rock, and absolutely nothing sets it aside from the rocks on this side of the stream besides the fact that it's decidedly not on this side of the stream.

And, somehow, I must have it.

I get down on my knees. I bet I can reach it if I stretch. Mind you, this isn't a particularly deep stream - the water doesn't run higher than my ankles - but I don't necessarily want to get wet. I can jump, of course, but I've committed to the stretch.

I can almost reach it, but I'm not extending enough. If I angle my body this way, perhaps I can grasp it.

No, not even close.

A stick perhaps? Feels like cheating. What then, but more extending?

I have regrets, of course, as I'm sure we all do. I took a stroll, and when I had the opportunity to be on the fabled that side of the stream, I chose the mediocre this side of the stream. Perhaps this is my greatest regret. 

Another not-so-great regret I harbour is my insistence to gotta get that rock, man. It's not so bad, but it's not so good either.

I have no idea what I would do with it once I have it, but that's a bridge we can cross later.

A bridge would have been really nice right now.

Extend. Extend more. Reach. Stretch those muscles. Lean a bit further. Stop breathing, you're wasting energy and you have bigger things to focus on. Get. The. Rock.

Get up. Step over the stream if you insist on gotta get that rock. 

But I'm really committed to the stretch at this point.

And, at some point, I feel myself float over that pencil thin line between extending and over extending. 

I'm wet.

I have my rock.

It wasn't worth it.