I’m sitting in Bellatazza, my favorite spot in Bend. I’ve got a cup of hot chocolate on the table, and a slightly damp sweater (thanks, June monsoon) occupying the other chair.
And I’m wearing a hot pink t shirt for the first time in my life.
I feel pretty good about it, too, because the world looks so wet and gray and dreary, and here I am, a little flash of living, moving color. I’m the same color as the flowers in the trees, and I like it.
Thinking to myself, I said “Man - I don’t see anyone else wearing hot pink! I feel kind of special about it!”
And not more than a minute later, a lady walked by outside wearing a hot pink hoodie.
————————————————————-
Life has been like that lately. One moment, I’m thinking “Yeah, okay, I got this. This is the way the world is, and the way life is going to go - I can deal with this, I’m comfortable with this.”
The next moment, something changes, and I’m left with “Shoot. I have no idea what’s going on.”
The past few months, I’ve been wrong about many things, on many different occasions. This sounds narcissistic, but I’m not used to that. I’m used to the feeling of knowing what I’m talking about. When it turns out I don’t, get nervous.
I’m nervous.
It’s like life has become this huge dodgeball game. Now, I usually feel pretty good about dodgeball. This is due to the fact that I’m not a threat, at all, so very few people will use their energy to throw the ball at me. Also, I’m usually able to dodge the rare ball that does come my way - with all the finesse of a brick crashing through a window. Sad, but true.
Anyway.
Someone changed the rules this round. Instead of being a fairly passive, though loud, player in the game, I’ve been required to make life-or-hit decisions. And the casually tossed spheres of rubber have become a gauntlet of perfectly aimed bullets headed directly at me with all the force of a freightliner.
And I have to play the game.
I can’t just stand there tossing the balls to someone else, which is my usual strategy, because the game has started to matter. I know what I want, now I’m just trying to figure out how to get it.
And I’m wearing a hot pink t shirt for the first time in my life.
I feel pretty good about it, too, because the world looks so wet and gray and dreary, and here I am, a little flash of living, moving color. I’m the same color as the flowers in the trees, and I like it.
Thinking to myself, I said “Man - I don’t see anyone else wearing hot pink! I feel kind of special about it!”
And not more than a minute later, a lady walked by outside wearing a hot pink hoodie.
————————————————————-
Life has been like that lately. One moment, I’m thinking “Yeah, okay, I got this. This is the way the world is, and the way life is going to go - I can deal with this, I’m comfortable with this.”
The next moment, something changes, and I’m left with “Shoot. I have no idea what’s going on.”
The past few months, I’ve been wrong about many things, on many different occasions. This sounds narcissistic, but I’m not used to that. I’m used to the feeling of knowing what I’m talking about. When it turns out I don’t, get nervous.
I’m nervous.
It’s like life has become this huge dodgeball game. Now, I usually feel pretty good about dodgeball. This is due to the fact that I’m not a threat, at all, so very few people will use their energy to throw the ball at me. Also, I’m usually able to dodge the rare ball that does come my way - with all the finesse of a brick crashing through a window. Sad, but true.
Anyway.
Someone changed the rules this round. Instead of being a fairly passive, though loud, player in the game, I’ve been required to make life-or-hit decisions. And the casually tossed spheres of rubber have become a gauntlet of perfectly aimed bullets headed directly at me with all the force of a freightliner.
And I have to play the game.
I can’t just stand there tossing the balls to someone else, which is my usual strategy, because the game has started to matter. I know what I want, now I’m just trying to figure out how to get it.
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