Fortune for the Day – “The state of love is the state of grace.” – N. Sri Ram
My mind is jumping all over the map on this first Monday, after the time change. So, please, please, jump right in with me, if you want be part of the jumble soup. You never know what will bubble up to the surface.
Yesterday, I felt the need to get out of my element. In the morning, our middle sons headed back to their university, after a cozy, relaxing, restful spring break, this past week. During last week, I had a false sense of security, having most of my baby birds home, safely in our nest. I was able to encourage them to open their beaks wide, as I plunged zinc and Vitamin C, down into their throats, on a daily, regular basis. Now, I will only get the daily reassurance via texts that they are okay, like the ones I eagerly await from their grown, older brother. So, to try and escape my low-level anxiety and a little bit of my let down about a family-oriented week that passed by too quickly, I encouraged my husband to ride along with me, with the top down, on an adventure. We took the beach road, which is always a lovely drive, but I honestly didn’t do it for the sightseeing or for the salt-air breeze. I wanted to get an honest, in-person impression of how COVID-19 was effecting our spring break season, which is huge around here. Our shore-front economy relies heavily on its tourism. I can report back, dear readers, that I was encouraged by what I saw. While traffic and crowds weren’t quite as heavy as they typically are around this time of year, the beach towns weren’t anywhere close to being ghost towns. There were still throngs of happy people, of all ages, holding hands, as they strolled down the sidewalks. Also, we are having cooler than average temperatures lately, so that could have something to do with the crowd being slightly thinner, as well. In short, I felt encouraged. People haven’t stopped living, and loving and laughing. The world hasn’t completely stopped, despite what the news channels are saying, at least not in our neck of the woods.
In other contemplations, I had my usual experience of getting stuck at the light at the intersection of my daughter’s high school and a busy four-lane high way, despite the light being green and me wanting to just make a quick, zippy little right on to the road, in order to avoid the miles-long line, of rush hour traffic, that makes a red light at this intersection, feel like an eternity, and some. I seriously could write (and probably even have time for some editing) my entire daily blog, at any one of our red lights, that is how long our stoplights last, here in Florida. The reason why I got stuck at a green light, was the usual reason. A tall, thin, healthy-looking young man, presumably a student at the high school, crosses the highway, every morning, as if he were taking a long, slow, contemplative, pausing to take time to stop and smell the roses, meandering stroll, down memory lane. Wearing his earphones, it is as if this boy is in his own precious musical video, entirely oblivious to the fact that he stands in front of throngs, of over-caffeinated, stressed out, running late, rush hour characters, all waiting at the starting line, chomping at the bit, with their feet just begging to slam on their gas pedals. Depending on my mood each day, I respond differently to this frustrating situation. Sometimes I feel worried and scared for him, as the motherly part of me (that motherly part that seems to be growing exponentially, as I age) wants to beckon to him, waving him over frantically, to save himself, from the line of aggressive savages, waiting angrily, at the starting line of the cross-walk. Sometimes, I want to scream at him and maybe even slap him upside the head, convinced that this young man is in his passive-aggressive teenage element, loving the control that he lords over everyone, even if it means taking his own life into his hands. Sometimes I use this experience as a lesson in patience and understanding, telling myself that I know nothing about this boy. He may even have physical or mental issues that necessitates his slow, deliberate pace. Maybe it takes every ounce of courage that this young man has in him, to make this daily trek, across the highway to school. Maybe I’m the jerk for even ever assuming anything else. Regardless of my response, the situation is what it is. I could try to adjust the times we leave to go to school. I could try taking a different route to the school, or I can accept the situation for what it is, but regardless of my reaction, the boy will casually and nonchalantly cross the highway on a daily basis, no matter how I choose to handle this fact, with my emotions and/or with my actions. Hmmm, I think that there is a broader lesson here. Maybe I should use the times that I will invariably get stuck at this intersection, to contemplate what lesson I am needing to glean from this situation. Then and only then, when the Universe is sufficiently convinced that I have learned the lesson, will the situation likely take care of itself, in the most wonderful way possible, a way that I might not even be able to imagine. That is how the Universe works. I know this fact. I’ve lived long enough to experience this phenomenon, again and again, in my almost fifty years of life. It always comes back to trusting, doesn’t it? To quote the Mandolorian, (and Jesus) and quite a few other wise ones, “This is the way.”
