Not A Problem

By: Nathan Fletcher

I kept trying to corner the day,

pin it down, make it behave,

as if life were a lock

and I the right turn of a key.

Every ache became a question,

every pause a flaw to repair,

every stumble evidence

that I hadn’t learned the trick yet.

But the ground never asked me to conquer it

only to feel it beneath my feet.

So I stopped sharpening answers

and listened for cadence.

This is not a problem to solve.

This is a practice to return to.

A step, a breath,

a loosening of the fist.

Forward doesn’t rush here

it sways.

Some days I lead,

some days I follow,

some days I simply stand

while the music remembers me.

Failure loses its teeth

when I stop interrogating the moment

and start inhabiting it.

The work is smaller than victory

and larger than success

showing up with a softer spine,

letting yesterday bow and pass.

This is not a problem to solve.

This is a practice to return to.

A dance between effort and mercy,

movement learning the courage of stillness,

becoming, not arriving,

again… and again… and again.

And I am but a student of the dance