Driving myself crazy. (no, not really… well, at least probably not…)Posted: April 30, 2012
Life exists on so many levels, from superficial to deep. On the surface, I am dealing with the brainless day-to-day trivialities that we all deal with. For instance, I had my car in to be serviced two weeks ago. I asked: Is there anything else it needs, while I am in here? Are you sure? Then, Saturday night, I (for reasons unknown) honed in on the corner of my front windshield and noticed that the inspection expires. Today.
I’m sure there is a reason why I couldn’t have had that done while I was last there, other than that I did not notice, and neither did the guy who was putting on new windshield wipers. I was spoiled the past two years when he said, “By the way, you are due for an inspection. We can do that while you are here.” Why do I not keep track of such things?
The thing is, I have to drive to another city to get it done. OK, technically I don’t have to. I could find a place closer to where I now live, but as I am rather car-illiterate, I trust this garage and have been going there for years. Do I want to take a chance at another? (I imagine: “We can pass the inspection for you but you’ll need two new tires… and a carburetor, ma’am.”) Or do I spend four hours to go to a place I know and trust?
Hmmm, well, you already know the answer: I go with trust.
Beneath the surface, the larger and looming questions of life (*especially regarding relationships) are not so easily remedied. Or, maybe they are and I just have to let them evolve and calm. The tricky part is, my actions or inaction directs the course, and sometimes I just don’t know which choice is best.
Yes, I pray. I get choices. Which do I choose???
Sometimes I think: “I am sooo indecisive. Someone must be developing my decision-making skills by making me choose. Either that or the petty instances of my little life are left to me, because Who could be bothered with all of this junk?”
is it an answer
to be given choices?
I can’t see which to choose.
Do I give them?
Or do I take them?
Indecision cannot be a gift,
Unless it is a way to bide time,
Amidst the denseness of my mind
Wherein so much already flourishes:
Moss, soft fallen wood,
powdering rust to the touch,
a trickle of childlike stream,
tender birch copses and
forest leaves covered
in dew, every shade of green
Every shape of blade and leaf,
Might pervade if not for the
Wants and anxieties
Hiding amongst the bougainvillea.
I am verging on