I love the term “spot-on.”
So sure. So confident. So on-target.
So unlike this morning.
Actually, so unlike any moment in my experience.
Last evening, I was restless in the storms. So I barreled into the night that crashed and banged and scared the bejeesus out of me.
Out into the country under skies dumping their bathwater. Up to the highest points around where I could see the crackling light show high in the cumulus congestus – unobstructed.
I have a tendency to fling myself into situations where I am afraid. My hope is to be brave, learn a bit, and overcome fear/goofiness/not-knowing.
Most of the time my “hail mary” approach works out. Last night, it did until I realized that I was standing over a car with my camera/phone poised to the sky with two disheveled heads popped over the backseat…Oh my. Urgh.
The “fails” didn’t end after leaving the two to their shenanigans.
Upon executing the complicated maneuver known as “getting into bed”, I knocked a light to the floor, stepped on my fallen glasses as I hopped to retrieve the lamp, and then did a cat-like triple-salchow at the startling booming of the skies above.
It’s hard to be classy.
This morning promised more lightning and rain. Katie and I called an audible, punted our run/walk, and settled in for more safe, dry, snoozing.
Which meant that I was off of my game and overslept.
Racing to get coffee + shower + clothes + coffee, I was a scrambling whirlwind. Nowhere near “spot-on.”
Which cracked me up.
Until – while cracking up – I fell over while getting dressed. Apparently, laughing and getting dressed are two highly-focused activities that should not be mingled.
Which made me laugh even louder and rendered me helpless for a while. I could not immediately continue in the path towards meeting my carpool on-time.
Foolishly, I allowed myself to get stressed out by the detour into the ridiculous.
Fortunately, an epiphany was waiting.
Why not embrace the goofiness that made me late? Why worry about what I cannot “fix” and doesn’t matter like the effect of humidity on my hair or what the kids below think when they hear the inevitable crashing from the Hobbit House.
Really, are any of us “spot-on”?
Aren’t we all a bit flummoxed about this thing of living with its mixed media of joys and sorrows; the known and the mystery; great choices and regrets?
So let’s barrel into living though it scares us at times and may prove dangerous. Life is beautiful and I’d hate to miss a draught of it.
Here’s to a life in the opposite of “spot-on”. My guess is that we may have a bit more fun than the perfectionists and – perhaps – change the world.
Still searching for the North Star.