Imagine going out to a cool brew pub in Harvard Square with your best friends. It is crowded and noisy and you are sitting on the inside of the booth which makes you want to flee. Imagine trying to make rice balls for dinner and jumping up and down every time you touched the mixture because it felt sticky and wet. What about getting stuck in a crowd during the Montreal Jazz Festival and grabbing your friends belt buckle, begging him to lead you to safety.
I don’t know about where you live, but where I live here in the Finger Lakes of Central NY, the colors this fall are spectacular. As you walk around my neighborhood, the trees are stunning; shimmering in shades of orange, yellow and red. When out walking, I find myself stopping and simply staring up at the leaves. Personally, I think it is beautiful here all year-long but then fall comes along and BAM everything is the same but oh so different.
Do you ever wish life came with an instruction book? I mean every day we are faced with decisions to grapple with; some are easy, some are hard, some seem impossible. Every day we must interact with others; some are nice, some are cold and some are so beat up by life circumstances that they are down right closed off or even mean. Every day we must do the daily tasks as well as put out the fires that the dragon of life breathes upon us. Every day! So, I will say it again… do you ever wish life came with an instruction book?
Have you ever met someone who seems to have a dark cloud that follows them at all times. It hovers just over their head, sometimes a reasonable pale grey and sometimes a threatening, black mess. When disaster strikes they get hit exceptionally hard. When they get sick they get really sick. When they are short of cash they are broke. When they lose a friend they are completely devastated. The cloud that follows them likes to be dark, it wants to be fierce and it enjoys the difficulties it witnesses. The cloud likes drama, hell maybe the cloud is drama.
I used to commute in Boston traffic, yes BOSTON traffic. I bought a house 17 miles from my work and my commute was over 1.5 hours each way. There is nothing more frustrating than crawling, mile after mile attempting to get somewhere you don’t even want to be. Every morning I would look for the road sign that would let me know how many minutes the drive to reach the tunnel would take. On a good day it would say 8 minutes. On a bad day it wouldn’t bother to give the number of minutes, it would say traffic starting at exit… This sign would often dictate what kind of day I was about to experience.