In celebration of my 190th post today, I’m re-blogging my first one. I began with 0 followers, but I had the germ of an idea of imparting my little flashes of “life” and insights to anyone who might stop by. A little more than 3 1/2 years later, through my writing I have shared experiences and perceptions with thousands of you thoughout our world, including the U.S., England, and Ireland; South Korea and South Africa ; Chile and Indonesia; Spain and India, and dozens of countries in between. THANK you for joining me on this mutual voyage of discovery.
I was walking on a newly discovered path when a white piece of paper fluttered down toward my face, seemingly out of nowhere. Strange, I mused, continuing to stride quickly and purposefully. I had hit the timer on my athletic watch, and was determined to walk briskly and beautifully to the end of the path and back until the timer dinged after sixty minutes.
My attention was diverted, however, three minutes later by another piece of white paper flying from the sky toward my face. It floated slowly, almost meanderingly, as if waiting for me to reach my arm out to catch it.
Instead, I ignored the potential break from my concentrated walking pace. The paper fell between my feet as I hit the graveled pavement with a strong stride.
Damn, I sighed when, less than a minute later, another piece of paper fluttered between my furrowed brow. I grabbed the irritating piece and crumbled it in my palm. But my pace faltered as I dared myself to look at the offending paper. How could I not?
I took a deep breath, stopped my legs, and immediately felt the blood beating furiously up my thighs toward my heart and back down to my feet. I experienced some light-headedness, so I began to walk again, slowly, toward a park bench
not far away. I sat down and took a deep, rejuvenating breath; stretched my legs out in front of me; and opened the piece of wrinkled, unlined paper.
UP,” it said.
I stared straight ahead and wondered if I dared. Some high school prank, no doubt.
But I couldn’t not look up.
Three clouds were joining to shape themselves into two separate letters, fat and plump.
I closed my mouth and looked straight ahead. Then I tilted my head again, hoping I’d been momentarily delusional.
it said still.
I stood up, turned off my timer, and walked slowly toward nowhere. Perhaps I had been looking straight ahead too often, in this life of mine.
I whispered, Hi back, with a smile on my face as my footsteps reminded me that it’s our journey, not the destination, that counts.
As another piece of paper twirled in front of me, I began to comprehend that we also need to challenge our perspective – every day.
(Globe thanks to Google images, Photos by Pamela Wight)