in·ter·mit·tent

/ˌin(t)ərˈmitnt/

adjective

1. occurring at irregular intervals; not continuous or steady. “intermittent rain”

The tides of the ocean; a slow glide up the beach, before retreating into the ocean once more.

The cadence of spring rain; at one moment a gentle shower, the next a torrential downpour.

The flickering of fire; warmth fluttering to and fro in a burning dance.

Acts of nature, unbound by time, holding fast to an unknown schedule, changing on a whim. Commanding the world around them to bend to an understanding of the universe where time is the last priority. Neither late nor early, nature acts as the true wizard of this Earthly realm.

To be intermittent is to act out against the bars built in our gilded cages. To be irregular angers the algorithms, upsets the machines that consume our data. To be unpredictable is to thwart the mechanisms created to guide and contain, to nudge us down a path not of our own choosing.

Intermittence, not a panacea to the drudgery, but an offering as a counterpoint. Be steady, yet not. Continuous, with breaks. Be unfaltering in pursuit of goals and dreams, but know that glass need not be held in the fire forever to be molded into something beautiful.

A resolution to be the spring floods that carved the Grand Canyon, but only when there is water in my soul. When the intermittent rain has gone, and my soul withers in despair, I will comfort in the inevitable. The tides will turn, the rains will nourish the soil again, and I will feel the warmth of the flames.

Intermittence is the difference between not right now and never.