I could tell the weather on the street was completely different than the weather I had left at work. The wind was whistling and moving and swirling through the deep staircase of the bus tunnel in a way that made me wonder if I’d end up like one of the nannies at the beginning of Mary Poppins. Being alone on the staircase, I smiled and played along with it, pretending as if the wind had caught be by surprise and was pulling me up the winding staircase against my will.
The wind was still being mischeivous even as I walked to my bus stop. It felt like it was playing tag between the tall buildings, alleyways, and dark corners – barrelling up from the Sound through the streets. Would I be able to resist its pushes and pulls? Could it knock me over. Running for shelter and safety under cover, the wind gave one more nudge to my purse – blowing it right off!
As I waited I began to notice the leaves. One moment one would be on the ground, resting as it always had and the next moment – like a shot – it would be caught up in it. The wind. The dance.
Think about it. Imagine you’re a leaf. Sitting there just minding your own business, resigned to the position in which you have ultimately fallen or come to rest. Only to, in a second, be shot up into heights you never could have imagined existing, let alone, going. It looked pretty fake – as if each leaf had a string attached – like bad special effects in an old movie.
But I wonder if my life might feel like that someday. Soon even. Everything going along seemingly normal until I find myself, in a flash, caught up by a strength much bigger than myself. Batted around to and fro – so chaotic seeming – but in new heights I’d never would have thought I’d ever experience.
I try so hard to plan and calculate how I am going to get from point A to point B in my life. But even if I succeed in my plans, do I ever get as far as I might if I’d allowed myself to get carried along? Making sure to enjoy the time in each place, however long I might be there, before getting picked up once again.
