Carrying the crumb

Ah to be a writer.. Like a hardworking ant who has spent its whole life carrying bread crumbs — except the bread crumb is my talent for writing, and the ant is me. Step by step, day by day, I push forward, carrying that crumb through storms and sunshine alike. It’s not glamorous work, but it’s mine.

Sometimes, I get lost on the path to becoming who I want to be. The trail gets muddled, the weight gets heavier, and I lose sight of where I’m going. But eventually, I find my way back on track. I always do. The drive to keep moving forward, to keep writing, never disappears — even when the path feels endless.

I see details others overlook. While the other ants keep their heads down, focused only on the ground beneath their feet, I look up at the sky. I see the cracks in the pavement, the shape of the clouds, the shifting patterns of light and shadow. That makes me different — and sometimes, being different feels like not belonging.

Most of the time, I feel out of place, like I’m walking a path no one else can see. Other times, I see reality with startling clarity. We are all ants, after all — little Sisyphus's, carrying our burdens uphill, only to watch them roll back down. We keep going because that's what ants do. That’s what humans do.

And so I carry my bread crumb — my talent, my purpose — because even if the weight is heavy, it’s mine. And maybe, just maybe, that makes all the difference.