When Your Life is Like a Drifting Leaf

I thought this morning was going to be one of those busy types of mornings. I needed to do a little shopping, get things ready for my daughter's arrival, and for a visitor coming midday. Somehow, a bit of work needed to be squeezed in while a chap is trying to find the time to have a nice breakfast.

Despite this, I found myself driving rather slowly, taking it easy, being passed by others with places to be and things to do. I went to the superstore feeling completely unhurried and at ease. Things seemed to flow rather nicely. Even the queue at the checkout went smoothly. As I returned to the car, I asked myself, Do I have time to get some fuel? Maybe.

As things were flowing rather sweetly, I thought I would.

I arrived at my daughter’s place with a few minutes spare to stare out of the window.

I have no idea where this post is going, or what sort of thing it thinks it is. I just type and see. I was given some apple pancakes to have for breakfast, which were rather nice. And I’m sitting here with a cup of tea, clicking away, wondering…

But I remember now that as I drove, I wasn’t wondering much about anything. And as I drove back, I wasn’t thinking much about anything either. I couldn’t get a sense of whether I would be late or not. It’s definitely not like this when I am thinking. When I am busy being busy. Then things get tangled, and a whole lot of energy gets involved, and well, things I don’t want, like headaches and tension, come along to say hello, and like unwanted guests, they hang around beyond their allotted hanging around time.

But last night, I decided I didn’t like being busy, and as I only have one life, and in the grand scheme of things, it isn’t a very long thing, life. Well, this thinking me said it didn’t want to be doing much stuff, planning much, or thinking about complicated what’s-its.

When I don’t think, it seems that whatever is wanting to be done, gets done.

Heath