Sunday, June 17, 2012

Jive Walking

I saw an amazing thing while I was at work today.  I arrived at a meeting 30 minutes ahead of time because my brain kept telling me I needed to be there at 3 even thought my calendar clearly stated the meeting started at 3:30.  My brain does this to me quite often - I keep trying to get it to straighten up but it just won't listen.  Does this happen to anyone else?  Am I the only one out there with a renegade brain?

So what did I do with my new found 30 minutes?  First I panicked (which is sadly - all too often my first instinct).  30 minutes?  I arrived 30 minutes early?  I have proposals I could be finishing, important calls to be making!  My next thought was, maybe I have time to go & grab a diet coke.  You know, the delicious soda fountain kind.  I even had a cup in the car so I would just have to pay for a refill instead of FULL PRICE.  Because Heaven forbid that I actually stay put for 30 minutes, especially when there is diet coke out there calling to me.  However, I suppressed the urge to leave.  Actually, it was laziness.  Once I considered all the walking, driving and finding a new parking space once I returned, that diet coke was history.  I love diet coke tremendously - but I was just too darn tired to put forth the effort.  It was as I was reaching the no diet coke decision that I actually saw something amazing.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a young man "Jive Walking" toward the building.  He wore bright purple pants, a bright orange hat, and a striped shirt that was (you guessed it) bright purple and orange.  He reached the door just as a lady about my age (frumpy & fortyish) had made it halfway across the lobby.  He stood there holding the door until she had exited the building all the while whistling a darn happy tune.  This young man then proceeded to "Jive Walk"  all the way across the lobby, finagled his way through security and over to the elevator.  He didn't miss a beat - combining the walk & whistle in fascinating fashion.  I was sad when the elevator doors closed and I couldn't see or hear him anymore.  But wouldn't you know it, when he exited the elevator several floors up I could hear his whistle and envision his smile and his walk for several more minutes.  In that instant, I knew I was a different woman.

How on earth, you might ask, did I find this to be amazing?  Life changing even?  I mean, the world is full of quirky, happy people and I just had the good fortune to run in to one of them.  Well, let me tell you.  This young man was amazing and had a life changing impact on me because he did all of this while on crutches and with only one leg.  Yep - you read that right - only one leg.  How, you might ask, does a young man with only one leg "Jive Walk" while using crutches?  My answer - I have absolutely no idea, but he sure as hell did.

So - the next time my renegade brain schedules two appointments at the same time, gets to me to where I'm supposed to be at the wrong time, forgets to tell me to pick up my kid on time, or simply refuses to work - I'm going to remember the man in purple & "Jive Walk" my way outta there.

Monday, June 11, 2012

Mourning

So - a dear friend of mine asked me on Friday night, "Why don't you blog anymore?". "That's a good question" my husband responded. My answer to both of them was a tired - it's complicated. Honestly, the best answer is two fold: First, I am not a good liar & I don't know how much of my life I was willing to put down for anyone to read. And second, I am just exhausted. Emotionally and physically exhausted. But then again, who isn't these days? In many ways I've been in a mourning holding pattern for nearly 3 years. Mourning a number of losses that I still find it difficult to talk about. However, the last few months I've actually been thinking about writing again - and maybe I just needed a little push to give it a try. Thank you Kim, for the push. Thank you to my friends & family who have loved me through thick & thin. I think it's about time I got out of the holding pattern and live life without the mourninging for a while.