Flummoxed. I’m flummoxed.
Even though the weather in the Bay Area has most of us convinced it is still March, the truth is we’re six months into 2011. Hard to believe, isn’t it? I’d love to say that so far it’s been an exciting, productive one hundred and eighty days (give or take) but the truth is so far this year has been about introspection and healing. At least for me. And, for now, there is very little I want to share about that. Except maybe to say something we can always count on is change. Nothing ever stays the same.
Instead I’ll tell you that I emptied my change bucket on Memorial Day and discovered that throwing the days collection of quarters, nickels and dimes into an old water bottle could yield – after sixteen months – three hundred and twenty dollars. Coin Star took a small chunk of that, of course, but I still had enough for two sessions of therapy and a few groceries.
And I’ll tell you about how I arrived for a hair cut at my favorite corner salon and ran out of it thirty minutes later looking not unlike an East German gymnast circa 1964. Attempts at home to re-style the odd and uneven razor cut with any gel, mousse and wax left in the back of my closet since 1992 failed.
Fortunately, when I returned to the salon today they happily re-cut my hair for free. Crises averted. I thought I was going to have pull out my acid washed mom jeans and Sally Jesse Raphael glasses.
And that’s pretty much it.
Instead, I’ve begun to consider the benefits of sitting still. We spend so much of our lives chasing dreams and goals, stirring up dust, racing towards something that at times is impossible to identify. I think I’d like to find out what happens if I let a little tranquility roll over me. What will I see if I let the dust settle? Maybe I’ll find out everything I wanted was right next to me all along. I was just moving too fast to notice.