When I contemplate the horizon, reality fuzzes a bit and is replaced by a vibrantly idealistic fantasy of which I am the star. In this particular fantasy, I am a juggler, effortlessly balancing a successful career and wonderful marriage all the while continuing to excercise mind and body in various fashions and maintain a full social calendar. The future “me” aparently does not sleep and is part machine.What I am chasing is a mirage, puffs of pink fluffy gasses that cloud my senses.
I went running the other day, and I noticed some absurd behavior in myself. As I jogged along tree lined neighborhoods, past the storybook houses, fresh-cut lawns, and flowering bushes, I would occaisonally try to sniff one of those flowering spring buds wihtout breaking stride. This was impossible to do without looking ridiculous. My nose would zero in on a flower, my jogging body would push me forward past the flower, and my head (lead by my nose) would be helpless to follow, so I throw my head back and to the side to allow one quick sniff of flowery aroma.
Such is the pace of my life right now. I am a passenger, Time is behind the wheel, and he is running stop lights. I am trying desperately to stop and smell, and breathe, and enjoy.
When did the home, 2.5 children and a white picket fence become the ultimate goals in life? Did I miss this vote? Can I nominate Intelligence, Truth and Balance?
Balance, ahhh balance. If there is one thing on my horizon, it is the quest for balance. Ive got to work on my juggling.
No comments:
Post a Comment