While sitting on my swing yesterday enjoying the breeze and listening to the birdsong, a neighbor dropped by to tell me she was moving. I watched her coming out of the house with bed linens rolled in a ball with tail of sheet dragging behind her. She tossed the ball onto the back of a truck and tucked the wayward sheet on top. I laughed to myself thinking it was much like my younger son had packed when he moved. Now if I was moving I would fold my linens and pack them in a box.
This difference in packing and moving doesn’t make either of us right or wrong. What’s works for me doesn’t necessarily work for another. We are each unique. That’s the beauty of life.
My problem is I would have obsessed about those sheets flying into the air and obstructing someone’s windshield and causing an accident.
The point is she arrived as safely and timely with her belongings strewn upon the back of a pickup as she would have if she’d carefully boxed and tied them down…and she probably saved a lot of time as well.
We each travel in our own distinct ways.
Some stretch out their arms and ride the wind.
Others crawl, clawing the ground along the way.
We each take one step at a time into the vast unknown.
Regardless the preparation or manner of travel on the journey, we will someday wind up at the same place. It matters little how we get there. It’s all about what we experience along the way.