Living Outside the Box

I must have had strict teachers in my formative years. Rules were followed and everything was done to the standards of what was proper.

I was good at coloring inside the lines. The feeling of my Crayolas rubbing against the cheap, rough coloring book paper felt good and right. In fact, after my mother died, it was the only thing I wanted to do... color in coloring books.

All of that rigidness is of little help now.

Trying to decide to which bank to swim in the river of this marriage is tough. There are no guidelines or policies.

I don't switch gears very fast either. I had planned to fix one thing for dinner tonight and when another variable came into play, I felt stress coming on. Usually, I'd stress much more, wanting the meal to be perfect. I'd stick to the original plan and move heaven and earth to make it happen. But today, something hiccupped and I had a fleeting thought... "well, if X happens tonight, just make the meal tomorrow night." That's a gargantuan leap in thought for me.

When I was in the mountains last weekend, I picked up small boulders and stones from the falls, planning to make a small, indoor fountain. Standing on the bank of the falls, I thought of some long-ago told story of river stones being smooth because the forces of the rushing water shaped them over time.

Sometimes now, I feel the rushing of life smoothing my rough edges and it feels nice to realize it's happening.