I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in

I've been away on some amazing trips the last couple of weeks. My mind has wandered over hill and over dale, from the halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli, and over the river and through the woods. It has taken me down rabbit holes and through wormholes. It has sent me on flights of fancy and ne'er-do-well such as I have not seen in years. But it hasn't taken me anywhere that I wanted to go. For me, it has been all about the journey.

Like most journeys, I have found much that wasn't worth writing about. I've been watching my life pass by like so much scenery while I remained in cool, quiet comfort inside contemplating other things. The concerns and frustrations of daily living have fallen across my face like the shadows of girders on a trestle bridge I happened to cross. The echoes of conversations have flown around me like the sound of a highway passing underneath me at high speed - thadump, thadump, thadump - as I crossed the speedbumps of life.

I did have one observation over the weekend - one of those types that can only occur to you after you have climbed quite a distance on your journey to the mountaintop. I was traveling up notoriously slow 19th Avenue on Saturday and I was watching a MUNI bus crawl through the traffic as well. It occurred to me that had I been on board the bus, I would have been tempted to get off at the next stop and run the rest of the way - like I used to. This was followed by a realization that I was certainly in no shape to run, much less run faster than a MUNI bus (whether stuck in traffic, parked at a curb, in the bus yard, or undergoing repairs ;). At which point I had one of those mind-altering conversations with myself.

Me: I'm in no shape to run ahead of a bus like I used to. I wonder why that is?

Self: Your no longer as impatient as you once were.

Me: Really? That wasn't the answer I was expecting. Why am I no longer impatient?

Self: Remember all those times God taught you patience. Do you remember what you used to be like before - how your life was such a mess because you were always so impatient to get somewhere that you tried every shortcut in the book and then some?

Me: You mean God made me patient and as a result I can no longer outrun buses?

Self: I mean that God made you patient and you no longer feel the need to outrun buses.

Me: I wonder what other things I no longer feel the need to do...

Self: Well, that is the question now, isn't it?

Me: Hmmm...

Hmm, indeed. I'm looking for an off ramp now - someplace to find rest from this wandering, some place to set up camp again intellectually. But for now, I'm just going to enjoy the journey for as long as my patience holds out. After all, I've got some new things to think about now.