A Small Victory

pause

I saw the first tints of orange and red bursting from the trees yesterday. The air has finally gone from steamy to cool and the sweaters and jackets have come out of hiding.

I love this time of year. I love the constant change in the scenery. I love the way the pinks and purples of an October sunset reflect off the fall tinted trees, making them seem as if they are on fire. I like the early nights, the coziness of settling down and putting on fuzzy slippers when it is only 7pm.

I start thinking in terms of holidays now, a succession of celebrations that normally set my brain into panic mode. Halloween bleeds into Thanksgiving and Christmas and before you know it, another year is done. Time is of the essence when you are forty years old. Where I used to feel a shuddery excitement at the onset of another year, now I feel like time is slipping past me instead of moving me forward.

I try not to live so much in the future anymore. I used to plan my holidays months in advance, start Christmas shopping in July, feel anxious over events that are months away.

Things have changed. I no longer take future years for granted. I no longer expect the future to be rightfully mine. It's the wars and the violence and the sudden explosions of terror that have loosened my grip on my 5 year planner.

I can never fully be one of those "live every day as if it's your last" kind of people; I still have to pencil in basketball games and teacher conferences, I will practically hold my breath waiting for the next Lord of the Rings movie. But I am packing a bit more into each day, trying to appreciate each smile that comes my way, each chance to see a sunrise or watch the leaves change or talk with a friend.

Life is a random event. I don't believe in destiny, I just believe in wrong place, wrong time and right place, right time. A series of coincidences could lead you to be filling your gas tank at a very inopportune moment or dancing in a night club when it's about to explode or crossing the street when a drunk driver is approaching.

I want to lay on the floor of a field, surrounded by thick trees and soft grass and a sky filled with clouds that look like castles and dragons. I want to feel the peace that lately only nature can offer me, a peace that comes when the television is off and the my mind is set on pause and I'm the only person that exists for that moment.