Road Less Traveled

I’m currently abusing my daughter’s massage chair. Trying to ease my sore back and even sorer mind. I just got off the phone with my favorite government agency. Needless to say, I wished I hadn’t called at all. But with certain organizations you often have to stay on their asses in order to get anything done. I always thought of myself as a pretty fair and efficient boss. At least that’s what my evaluations would say. But the inefficiency of this particular bureaucracy staggers the mind.

So I’m sitting here, the door closed, George at my feet, listening to the dull hum of these warm magic fingers. Hopefully easing away the droning voices of our governments finest. As everyone around me knows, I’m sick with allergies. Normally this only happens at the peak of the season. But this has been going on since February. I wrote recently about forgiveness and living in the moment. But what I want to speak of today is reality as compared to our dream ideals.

From the bay window of my daughter’s home office, there’s a major east/west Highway. It’s the same highway that runs through my small town. The biggest difference is this section of road is much busier than mine. For the last 10 years my mind has occupied a road less traveled, a place of sanctuary. Considering my physical and mental condition (congestive heart failure, chronic depression, generalized anxiety disorder) you get the picture. I do my best to live a simple stress-free life.

But life often doesn’t afford us that luxury. Between an ever-growing list of caregiving responsibilities, my own health issues, and this never-ending pandemic. For the last year I can’t seem to catch a break. Still I do my damnedest to walk a quiet path. And I am grateful, because a number of my friends don’t get that chance. So all I can say is, seek solace where you can. Don’t force the issue. Travel light and always be aware. Because those few moments you get maybe your road less traveled.