I never did think that everything I wanted in life would come out of the wash, perfectly pressed and ready to wear. And yet some of it did. Not all – mind you. Not too much. Not so much that I every wondered “Why Am I the LUCKIEST PERSON ALIVE?!” and not so much that I ever wondered if my luck – as it were – would change on a dime.
Enough that things sped along at a lovely clip and I was pleased and satisfied and the low valleys were always offset by an equal peak.
And then, one day, things started going the other way. And a string of great successes turned into a string of not-so-great successes and then eventually turned into a string of near-failures. Or, rather, a string of things-I-didn’t-want-to-happen.
(Which, you can call failures if you must. Sigh.)
And that was when I had to stop and take a good long hard think on it all. After all, here I was. The self-same person. The person who was used to things working out rather well. And that wasn’t happening this time. Instead, the opposite was happening. To the same me. To the same person with all those other experiences I could hang my hat on.
So what was next for this me person to do?
The only thing.
The “going on” thing. The “pick myself up” thing. The “realize that things don’t always go the way of the dressmaker” thing. It was time to move on, to move forward, and to keep moving.
To find the next good thing. And to keep turning garden pots over until I found it.
And that’s what I’m doing.
Big green sky ahead.