I used to expend a lot of energy on frustration when my day simply got
away from me. You know the experience. No matter how meticulously
you’ve planned it, no matter how much you fight it, you start to feel like
you’re slipping backward in time.
It’s as if all the entities from an all-loving God to Gaia to the Cosmic
Goof to Ronald Reagan’s ghost to random chance laugh at you as one
and say “write this one off, pal. Better luck tomorrow.”
I had such a day Monday. It went well at first. I put up the day’s post,
had breakfast, noodled on the net a bit and headed to the ferry to pick
up Ian. He installed and maintains our alternative energy system.
Ian had his 6-year-old daughter with him. I assumed it was “Take-
Your-Daughter-to-Work Day” at his corporation. Then I remembered
that he’s self-employed. It was more like “Take-Your-Daughter-Who-
Ian had to replace the tri-meter in our system that had been fried by a
lightning strike. He added a lightning arrestor to arrest any future
lightning with similar ideas. He was done quickly and I was able to get
he and child to the next ferry.
It was still going well. Then I had to make a crucial decision. I knew
the truck was low on fuel. Do I trust it to get me the 10 miles back home,
knowing that Jude was bringing home gas that evening, or do I drive the
5 miles to the island’s gas station?
I opted for the station. I ran dry about one click (exactly 62% of a mile)
away from it. That was the game changer. Although I knew I was much
better off near town than halfway home and in the middle of nowhere,
I started to curse my luck.
And then I got a grip and let go of my illusions of total control. It was
likely due to recent contact with my dear friend and spiritual guide
Ducks (not her real name). I realized I had been blessed with a break
in my routine, a reminder to stay loose, and a chance to exercise on
a nice warm day.
I walked to the shop of the mechanic who keeps our vehicles running.
He and his wife were having lunch in the office. They loaned me a gas
can. We chatted a bit and I found out that they’re organizing the
island’s softball league this year. They invited me to show up for the
first practice. I might do that. I love the sport. It could be good for a
few amusing posts.
They offered to take me to the truck. I declined because they were
dining. Across the street from their shop, I ran into Dave and Matt, who
had not been able to make the good-riddance-winter party. I told them
about it. They admired the scar from my hand gash. They told me that
they were getting gigs and calls for gigs. They’re both accomplished
Dave offered me a ride to the truck. I accepted and told him I’d meet
him around the corner at the gas station. My neighbour George was
there. He was headed that way and offered me a ride. I went back and
told Dave. I was soon on the road.
I drove home slowly. A lot of people were working in their yards. There
were several folks at the community garden. Spring was not only offi-
cial, it was here. I complimented myself for not getting nutty over such
a minor inconvenience. It was actually a prompt as to the direction of
The Flow. The looser I stay, the more I realize that this place marinates
To emphasize this lesson, the first draft of this post was lost to a glitch
this morning. That’s why I’m posting late. But that’s cool. This version