Monday, June 25, 2007

Putting one foot in front of the other

While I'm not particularly wrapped around the axle about any single thing that's going on right now, there is a lot of stuff floating about:

Kid stuff, for instance. Oh, they're all grown and long out of the nest, but you don't stop worrying about them. One has some health issues that worry me, and I want to go make it all better, and know that I can't. One is shutting us out while she deals with some pretty hard life issues -- and we just have to be able to love her from afar for a while. And one continues to make choices for herself that can only lead eventually to disaster.

Work stuff, for instance. I'm grateful for new opportunities that have been placed in my path, even while it makes me nervous about meeting deadlines and providing quality service. There are doors opening, it seems, and sometimes it takes a while and a lot of talking and thinking to decide whether or not to walk through them. And yet, such doors are what got us here.

I've had occasion lately to remember Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken," a poem I memorized years and years ago and have always loved -- probably because I've pretty much always chosen the lesser-traveled road.

I think that as one ages, those diverging roads take a little longer to choose between -- at least I've found it so. We weigh the pros and cons of each road, inasmuch as we can see them. We speculate about the "what if" factor -- if the road turns out to have ginormous potholes that threaten to swallow us, for instance. Ultimately we wind up back at that clearing where the roads meet, and the option is weighed and measured, but we must choose one.

So far -- and this, perhaps, is what allows me to sleep at night -- the places those roads have taken me have been quite the ride. Never in my wildest imaginings, for instance, could I have predicted 10 years ago where I'd be today, and yet that road to California was an enormous decision and choice. I am so grateful I made it!

Life stuff, for instance. I still want to lose that pesky 15 pounds. I still need to walk more often than I do. I still feel guilty about both of those, in a vague, you-oughta-be-doing-something way. I'd like to rev up the sewing machine and stitch up a couple of tops before we head off on vacation. I oughta get a couple of rows of green beans and chard planted in the garden. I need to organize the arts council stuff better, do more, clean out that basket. Clean my desk, fer pete's sake! All those shoulda-woulda-coulda items. You know.

And yet I'm taking steps, putting one foot in front of the other, plodding along and doing the task at hand, trying not to worry about children and praying every morning and every night for their safety and health and happiness. That's okay for now, to handle life one step at a time.

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