I fell off a skateboard on Sunday. (Yeah, umm, okay… we could talk about why I was on a skateboard. Not a lot of damage, but still…)
Then on Tuesday, I got rear-ended. (Not a lot of damage but still…)
As I drove home from this morning’s pair of school drop-offs, I was thinking through things and wondering if there is still a “third” thing to come. Or maybe it has already happened in the recent span of days. I thought of seeing a coyote loping down the street as I turn up my hill on Friday evening. It took me a minute to process what I was seeing (a really strange, thin-legged, shaggy dog) and come up with “coyote.” I thought of the swell of tidal moods over the weekend. Or maybe there is something of significance yet to come, something more than an oddity or minor pulse in the days.
Am I superstitious about such things? Not really. I am pragmatic. I have learned over the last few years that there is no rule of threes. Sometimes things, good or bad or in between, come in dozens or, on the flip side, in nano threads that, taken together, might still be invisible to the naked eye. But today, the thought occurred to me that maybe I should “be careful,” that maybe there was still another shoe being thrown my way, a third still to come.
Home again and a few hours into my work morning, there was a sudden rift in the fabric of the day, and I realized that maybe I wasn’t looking at the big picture. Maybe the third thing was and is happening, just not a direct hit.
It is hard trying to keep things sorted out when philosophy, belief, faith, and personal mythos all seem to collide or swirl in and out of state.
Don’t you think?
I did, however, edit 173 today. A bit more production to make sure all the pieces are hooked up, and it will be available here on the site. It’s way overdue. Today is May 1, which makes me hang my head that there was no March release and no April release. Yikes. My good intentions and ‘year’ plans are being challenged, for sure.
There should be visible stitch lines in a post like this, the threads that hold the little clusters together before the post is posted, the stitches that show the stops and starts, the pauses, the get up and go and come back again that often interrupt and change the content that was unfolding.
I drafted the above, thinking I would snap a phone photo and post from the car either at the first pickup or at the afternoon soccer. I grabbed my things and headed out the door. Sitting, parked on a corner where I have parked a thousand times before but not where I usually park this year, I thought I would play a game of Scrabble in the few minutes before the bell.
Would you believe it that in those three minutes someone rear-ended me again? At low speed, obviously, but pulled straight into me, the crunch of impact jolting me from my fog. Really? I was already on the corner. The last car that should be there. And someone decided to park behind me–and in me.
As my kid came out and decided to skateboard up and down the sidewalk hill a few times, I held my breath and wondered, again… what is coming.
And how many!
I caught sight of my shadow looming in front of me. Seems somehow fitting.