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.