Filler

My attention keeps floating back into the kitchen this afternoon.  A five dollar bag of enriched, white rice sits on the counter, tending to my addiction.  My heart moves between a fresh freedom, worry, and regret.

Freedom from the constant checking of Facebook and the Weather Channel, CNN, Instagram, and ESPN.  Though, I do have in inner agitation that compels me to reach for what's not there every five minutes.  

I'm worried that the rice won't work, that it won't suck enough water out fast enough for the screen to be clear again.  Or worse.  

Regret lingers in my heart like fog hovers over a swamp.  How much has been lost?  How much of the awareness of the reality of life has been, itself, sucked out of my life by it's smooth screen.

The parallel isn't lost on me: a food that fills the belly, but contains little to no real nutritional value is the key to resurrecting a part of my life that fills my time, but contains little to no real sustenance for my heart.