The Rollercoaster & Hairbrush


Brushing my thinning hair at the end of the night, is actually my relaxation time. The only concentrated activity¬†on my mind is the constant stroking of the brush against my scalp. As the bristles massage my head, I recap the highlights–and sometimes the lows–of the day. Most times, I think about what was accomplished versus wasted time. In retrospect, my end of the day ritual is a mental coaster ride¬†of hills and valleys.

Got some good Word time in today. John 5 and Genesis 13 were good reads.

A subtle nod confirms that thought.

I looked a little too long at that girl’s butt today.

Scrunched nose chastises my manly weakness.

Cut the boy’s hair; paid the rent; social media rounds: check.

Slight smirk of the lips. Just gave myself a mental high-five.

Skipped out on querying agents today.

Shoulders slump as I loath my fear of failure.

Opened up that email from a random reader, praising my last blog post.

My chest puffs pridefully.

I can’t believe I looked away from that homeless guy, knowing I had spare change in my pocket.

And my chest deflates again…

Jedi mind tricked the boy into studying his books of the bible in a fun activity.

Slight nod of praise.

Gotta get up and spend another day doing a job I don’t enjoy.

The dreaded head bob and sigh.

Throughout this display of mental duality, the brush never skips a beat. Man, the struggle between the spirit and the flesh is real and plays out in subtle ways daily. Oh wretched man that I am.


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