The way it goes
My brother called to ask me how the eclipse went. I probably should have been aware of the reason it was so dark out. I thought it was just going to rain (and here it is – thunder just started). He was under the impression that I was directly under the path and would have the best view. In truth, had I even been paying attention, I would have seen the same 60% that he did in New Hampshire. And ain’t that just the way it goes?
While I was out, I grabbed lunch. If I didn’t, I knew I’d go home and eat and then not come back to work. I would never write this because home is where the TV and the cats are. So I settled for fast food, which I’d been craving anyway. Pet peeve: the drive through menu is abbreviated and I couldn’t find what I was looking for. The lady to whom I spoke interrupted my questions in order to tell me she never looks at that menu, so she can’t tell me where to find things. When I tried to tell her what I was looking at, she told me why I was wrong and that wasn’t the correct name or combination of items. I tried to tell her (once I was at the window) that what she knew and what a customer could see were two different things, but she went back to explaining what the different options were called correctly. She wasn’t really listening and I knew I was wasting my time. And ain’t that just the way it goes?
Lucky for me, I’ve been reading a lot of Emma Curtis Hopkins. We are so good at making our declarations of absence, or talking about what’s missing in our lives. Basically, although Emma (I call her Emma) is too nice to say it, we are very good at complaining and bad at gratitude. In ancient times, we are told that people thought the world was ending when an eclipse happened. Today, I thought it might rain and I love the rain, so I was happy. My brother hoped I had a good view, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to look at it because I was having more fun doing my job and I don’t want to hurt my eyes. I had a challenging conversation with the lady at the drive through, but I had a great talk with the bank teller and my brother. That’s two for three in the same half hour. It doesn’t even count the rest of the conversations I had already had (all positive) or would have today.
Emma advocates for making a strong declaration of presence, or declaring the Truth about the presence of the Good in our lives. That will bring out more and more good to notice. And my day gets better. I get the monsoon experience, something to write about and a chance to banter with my bro. Those little things make up a life. Those little miracles make up my life. And ain’t that just the way it goes?