As I listened to the sad news report about a cop who accidentally shot and killed a fellow officer while in training, I imagined the grief and regret that officer must be feeling. For weeks and months to come, he will be tortured with thoughts of how he could have done things just a little differently; if he had, then it would have turned out as any other day. Uneventful.
Moments, even seconds, can have a huge impact on how things pan out. The Butterfly Effect. Did you ever wish you'd gotten somewhere a moment sooner? Or a moment later? Even now, 44 years after I first saw the Franco Zeffirelli production of Romeo & Juliet, I still wish that friar had moved a little faster carrying the mail to Mantua, or that Romeo had moved a little slower rushing back to Verona!
Why couldn't the friar have delivered the mail using Romeo's swift steed? And why couldn't Romeo haved gone to the Chemist's...and then on to the tomb where a deeply-sleeping-yet-appearing-dead Juliet lay in wait....on the friar's pokey old mule instead?
This sequence of events led to one of the saddest endings in movie history. Even though I know it's just a movie, I still wish it had turned out differently. I often wish the same in the events of my own life, and I am certain that the cop is torturing himself with that same thought. If only. If only!
It's normal to feel wistful, even regretful, over how things turn out. It takes time & maturity to see that things often happen for a reason. The Montagues & Capulets finally buried their lifelong feud after losing their children, Romeo and Juliet, so needlessly. What good will come of the tragedy in this young cop's life? Only time will tell, but I'm sure praying for him.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Numbers -- Sept. 16, 2010
Numbers are just numbers. Inert, powerless. So why have numbers been causing me such angst this week? I'm okay with the number 9...which is the month we're in. In spite of being a summer-loving person, this year, I'm okay with the cooler weather. Those 100 numbers wore hard on me this year.
I'm okay with 3, also. That's how many months until Christmas. I love Christmas. The lights, the music, the excitement, the anticipation. I've always celebrated Christmas in a way that doesn't overtax my spirit or my finances, so Christmas has never been a burden to me. Christmas is not supposed to be a burden.
Another number that sits easy with me is 53; my age. So many people view the passing years with disgust. Getting older is just not acceptable to them. They color their hair, get face lifts, buy red sports cars, all in the name of trying to feel or look younger. I am what I am and I'm good with getting older. I embrace the financial freedom I've gained and the level of wisdom I've attained. I like 53.
The number that is causing me issues this week is my weight number. It's my yearly checkup at the doctor today and I've been dreading it all week. My weight is a number yet unknown and why it would cause me such worry and sleeplessness is a mystery when I'm so accepting of other numbers.
Last year when I went to the doctor I discovered, to my horror, that the number that had been the same for so many years was all of sudden 20 numbers higher. I was caught completely off-guard.
Now, knowing I have to step on that scale feels like I'm going to be looking into the face of a stranger. I no longer feel I can trust or rely on my body to remain as it has been. It's a number that has moved beyond my control. Does that 53 number have anything to do with this? Maybe I should revisit my acceptance of 53!
What I feel is no different than what Rip Van Winkle felt when he woke up 20 years older than when he went to sleep. Things that move too quickly don't give us time for learning to accept. Jumping 20 years, or 20 pounds, are numbers that are harder to accept.
I'm okay with 3, also. That's how many months until Christmas. I love Christmas. The lights, the music, the excitement, the anticipation. I've always celebrated Christmas in a way that doesn't overtax my spirit or my finances, so Christmas has never been a burden to me. Christmas is not supposed to be a burden.
Another number that sits easy with me is 53; my age. So many people view the passing years with disgust. Getting older is just not acceptable to them. They color their hair, get face lifts, buy red sports cars, all in the name of trying to feel or look younger. I am what I am and I'm good with getting older. I embrace the financial freedom I've gained and the level of wisdom I've attained. I like 53.
The number that is causing me issues this week is my weight number. It's my yearly checkup at the doctor today and I've been dreading it all week. My weight is a number yet unknown and why it would cause me such worry and sleeplessness is a mystery when I'm so accepting of other numbers.
Last year when I went to the doctor I discovered, to my horror, that the number that had been the same for so many years was all of sudden 20 numbers higher. I was caught completely off-guard.
Now, knowing I have to step on that scale feels like I'm going to be looking into the face of a stranger. I no longer feel I can trust or rely on my body to remain as it has been. It's a number that has moved beyond my control. Does that 53 number have anything to do with this? Maybe I should revisit my acceptance of 53!
What I feel is no different than what Rip Van Winkle felt when he woke up 20 years older than when he went to sleep. Things that move too quickly don't give us time for learning to accept. Jumping 20 years, or 20 pounds, are numbers that are harder to accept.
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