I notice that as I grow older, I tend to avoid certain stretches of the road. To clearly define this metaphor: the road of life is the place where our daily activities take place from when we get up to when we finally fall asleep.
I notice that there are patches of the road that I tend to avoid without really even pondering what I'm missing. Last night's un-game with the Sox taught me that.
As I sat in a rainy Fenway stadium in a plastic bag with Red Sox logos on it I realized that happiness is about what is perceived and nurtured in a situation rather than anything else. I was damp, cold, and happy even though NO game was going on, and it didn't look like one was going to happen.
The reason I avoid these areas of the road is that I have convinced myself that the trouble that it takes to go over them isn't worth the experiences that lie within that time. I am wrong in that... there are great experiences on those patches of road even though they're rough.
Being wet, drinking coffee, and talking about the Red Sox in Fenway Stadium is an experience that I will remember for a long time. Mostly because I loved being around all those people who love baseball, who didn't care that we were getting soaked, and who WANTED to see the Sox play. I felt like we had better things to focus on than whether or not we were in the rain, and it felt good.
So my lesson this week is to re-examine the parts of the road in my daily life that I avoid and see if there are other good experiences in there to learn.
Ashe Mercury.
