It snowed a bit last night.
The path from the door to the yard still appears passable. The two little dogs tip one way then the other, working hard at navigating their way to the designated poop area. My big dog lopes ahead, bounding around in the crunchy snow, crashing through the firm top layer with each step. It takes the wee ones quite a bit more time to arrive. They stop at length, as though they’ve hit Base Camp, sniffing and bobbing in the wind. Seemingly determined to join their giant friend, they forge ahead.
I think of the journeys in life, from stretches of middle school where I felt left out, high school hundred yard hurdle events that seemed never-ending, then college tests when I second-guessed the spelling of my own name! A long jagged path led to self-employment and many moves from one locale to another. Witnesses may have anticipated Olympic Gold metals or an early death but I always landed somewhere smack in the middle.
Being a risk taker doesn’t necessarily mean one has confidence or sure success. it simply stands for occasional thick-skin and an acquired acquaintance with ignoring the rules.
If we make our way forward, with the idea that we haven’t much choice (we have to make it to the poop area) then the inevitable happens. We make it. Perhaps not altogether “in-time.” More often than not, we don’t acknowledge the accomplishment, just focus on the negative (I wet a little before I got there.) Even the miniature dogs act as though they’re just thrilled to get back to the front door in one piece.
Take the time to do the Happy Dance, to accept the achievement, share with friends and family, and pause to consider the lesson before moving forward to sniff the competition’s deposit.
Per usual, share like you mean it!