different

The weather has changed. I’ve changed up the scenery, for a day at least, by visiting my daughter at my former caffeinated hangout. I’ve even changed my schedule this week. I can feel myself inching further out on a limb even as I write this. For someone with my idiosyncrasies, I find that the best contributor to balance is a recognition and an attempt at stretching. It combats denial. At least I tell myself that anyway. I’ll admit that there’s a bit of Bob (as in “What About….”) in me. It all comes down to baby steps. Even as I proceed through an altered morning ritual I keep telling myself that everything will work out. It will be fine. The clock will still move onwards and dinner will still happen at the appointed hour. It will be just fine. It’s not bad. It’s just different.
This place is full this morning. I can’t help but wonder how many others here are living as planned this morning. Most look as if they are. Even with caffeine coursing through their veins, they all appear calm and collected. The prying part of me wishes that they would all have those little cartoon thought balloons hanging above their heads. On the other hand, if they did, then I would, and all of theirs might be directed at mine telling me to mind my own business. If you can follow that thought then you should consider yourself an expert at deciphering random. Now you have a look into my brain under the influence of change. It really is a great experiment when one can control and direct the change. I would highly recommend it.
It causes me to look at other areas of my life and wonder how much control I could exert over other less than admirable qualities. If I could control some, then should I control some of them? All I’m saying is that I’m sure that this world would be a better place if people would control those attributes and outbursts that they were capable of controlling.
I’ll give you a “for instance” For instance, I am one of those individuals whose moods are greatly altered by my state of hunger. And no, it’s not just because I’m a man. If I don’t eat at certain times and sometimes even certain things, there becomes for me a point of no return and then I become irrational. At seemingly irrational times, the first question asked by my family is usually “Did you eat lunch?. Sometimes I’m just plain irrational. All of us deserve a bit of that luxury in our lives. However, many times my irrational state has been directly determined by my not eating. The part of this that causes me to stop and ponder is that usually I can feel it coming from a ways off. I can feel the rpms approaching red line status. I can feel the wheels beginning to come off. Wouldn’t that be the point in time that I should stop the train and eat something? You’d think so. Life would be measurably different. I’m trying.
So how many other places is this the case? How many situations do I get into when the still small voice inside of me is advising against any more forward progress? How many bolts have I broken when all logic told me to stop yanking and yet I proceeded anyway?
How many relationships have been damaged as I continued to speak even as the voice within tells me to stop speaking? Within my faith there lies the belief that the still small voice is God himself, in the form of the Holy Spirit. You can call it what you will, but He’s there and He’s trying to guide me despite my sometimes plans for otherwise. There are many times that I’m trying to steer the ship on my own power while shutting out the voice. I understand that there are plenty who don’t share this belief. There are plenty of you who are also determined to chart your own course. To you I’ll ask the same Dr. Phil question that I ask myself when another roadblock is inevitable. “How’s that plan working for you?”
I think that this other form of living, I’ll call it conscious living, is much more preferable when I can accomplish it. In order to attempt it, you need to be in the moment. Think through your interaction with the bank teller or maybe the cashier in the not so express lane. How could your 3 minutes together improve the quality of their day? Be conscious of what your child is actually asking you instead of giving the standard parental unit reply. Invest in a moment that you normally would race through without contact.
I love this time that I share with this keyboard each week. We have moments together and sometimes I take them for granted and they hover on the brink of routine. I’m glad I decided to change it up a bit today. I’ve invested in the moments. It’s not bad, not bad at all. It’s just different.

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