A Sense of Timing

Recently, I had the comment made to me that everything in life is about timing.

I gave that an immense amount of thought, probably more than I should have. I have a tendency to be analytical and, as my daughter is prone to remind me, overthink any given situation and attempt to anticipate the outcome before it happens.

But, you know, I just want to be prepared for the result.

I have a firm belief in the six degrees of separation theory, that the universe will truly bring you want you want, and sometimes it isn't what you need. I am not a believer that the universe could ever rotate on a timed schedule. Life is a circle, and you're always bumping in to your past, stumbling through the present and seeing the future in small glimpses here and there.

I look for signs, and have finally begun to listen to those little angel whispers in my ear. I wish the darned creatures would just knock me over the head with a big stick when I'm about to do something I know isn't right, but then, I've always been a stubborn thing. My life up to now has been a labyrinth, and it doesn't look as though it's going to get any less complicated.

My heart has always been a passionate drifter. It never stops for long at any one roadside stand. I get that wanderlust from my mother, who was tragically grounded out of love and fear. My dad was a solid fortress, hiding his emotions and shielding his inner face from everyone, including his children. I'm a complete blend of the two, as are my sisters.

What I want now, at this stage of my life, isn't up for discussion. It's the same thing I wanted when I was twelve, and the same thing I wanted when I was thirty, and the same thing I wanted two years ago. The things I have wanted out of life were determined a long, long time ago.

I just need to have the courage to go out and get them.