I was walking to work recently when I realized that the world is completely dynamic. Not just the air swirling around us or the leaves shifting in the wind – everything. Every word, every smile, every blade of grass that grows on a city sidewalk is the result of millions of different things.
This may not seem like a particularly stunning realization, but it was at the time. I had been struggling with the dynamic nature of my life for several months, looking for something onto which I could grasp and depend. At that point I still didn’t have anything, though I did think I’d found someone. But they weren’t sure and I didn’t know if I could wait.
Later I was walking down the street after eating a small lunch, thinking about what had happened. Sixty days had passed, and I was trying to figure out where they’d gone. I was trying to figure out if the weights I had taken on were worth the possibilities. Each day they seemed to be okay, but every time I thought about it all at once, I felt crazy. It was sunny that day and a little bit too warm for my taste so I hurried to the office and got back to work.
I guess keeping busy is what makes waiting possible. The less you think about the wait the more time you can put off the inevitable let-down. Richard Linklater tells us that even the truest of love might need to wait ten years to finally manifest. And here I am, considering walking away after six weeks. Stories put things into perspective for me in a way that they probably shouldn’t, but I’m here anyway, twiddling my thumbs. I think I can twiddle for a bit longer if I put my mind to it.
It was unconventionally overcast in Los Angeles on Monday. This is May, not March. But I’m not complaining; I prefer the clouds to the sun. I had just locked my car and started braving the parking lot when I felt the first drop. I stopped and looked up at the summer sky. Another drop, then another. In moments it was raining, and I was standing on the pavement staring up at the sky. I realized that I’d been approaching my life from entirely the wrong point of view. The rain answered every question I had, and told me exactly what I needed to hear.