Every now and then, we’re challenged to find a deeper meaning to the things that matter the most to us. We’re told we need to ask the really important questions early on in life, for the sake of simply basking in the comfort of being wiser as we age into those golden years. But then again, as a romantic, I’m typically geared to simply swoon at the idea of a Hallmark moment actually leaning into my life every now and then without the pressure to be or do anything to deserve it.
But seriously, when I think about my own life, I’m given so much flexibility to be right or wrong that in the end, it doesn’t really matter. I’m given the right to choose left or right; or at the very least, taste the spirits from both. I’ve been blessed to have talents for both good and evil, and with the twist of neither one given me too much collateral damage. In the end, we only get what we’ve put into a thing or two, so why ask for more? Why stop all the traffic on the beltway because your day is starting to spiral uphill?
One day, we may lose the choice to simply be the thing we’re supposed to be. For once, poets and peacemakers just may have their say in explaining how much time we really have in a day.