Treading Metaphors

I became a writer because everywhere I looked, I saw a story. I became a blogger because everywhere I looked, I saw a metaphor. Now that I’ve deleted the self-deprecating and unfunny paragraph I wrote after that, we can talk about those metaphors.

Friday was a marathon back-breaking housecleaning tour de force. And you know what? The place looks pretty much exactly the same. If that’s not a metaphor, I don’t know what is.

You know perfectly well what it feels like to bust your ass – succeed – and still have nothing to show for it.

It’s obviously fine if no one notices failure, but we want our triumphs to be recognized. Okay, we want our triumphs to be lauded, but I’ll never hear any applause for getting on a stepladder, taking down every light fixture, carefully washing it, and just as carefully replacing it throughout the house. (Just one item on a list that would daunt that hinting Heloise herself.)

Dusty lights aside, so much of what we do in life is necessary, good, important and even difficult – and ultimately goes by without any more notice than an Edith Wharton fan would get at a rave.

But wait! There’s more. If we don’t do it then someone will tskingly see, though they might not say anything out loud. Then there’s the aggregate effect of neglect which makes it so much worse when we finally get around to whatever it is. No matter what your occupation, vocation, or avocation is, something will fall apart if you don’t do it.

It’s all about the metaphor. The metaphor here is: treading water.