Living In The Smog

 The smog will kill you if you don't rise above it.

The smog will kill you if you don't rise above it.

Sometimes life can be tough. We get caught in the daily grind of living, making decisions that affect the rest of our life. Some of the decisions are good and some send us into a spin. Usually, the decisions that send us into a spin are the ones that have been blurred by stress and not taking the time to think the situation through.

I've suffered more than my share of making myself miserable because I did something without thinking. I brought my son up encouraging him to think, think, think about everything he does and before he says it. He does it all the time, somehow I don't always heed my own advice these days. Am I too busy, too lazy, too caught up in what others might say or have I lost some of the self-confidence I've had because of life's struggles? Possibly all of these.

During the last four months I've been on a journey of self discovery. I thought I knew myself pretty well. I've always had a sense of adventure and an insatiable curiosity about others' lives. Six months ago I was given the personal papers of a woman who died last December. I glanced at the contents of the boxes knowing I would get to them sometime soon. I've just completed my third book which is under consideration with a publisher as I write.

I'm about to move house again, so it's time I looked at that box. This week I sifted through the papers and the bits and pieces and found some interesting information. However, my head is in a space where I'm not thinking clearly. The person who gave me the boxes phoned me recently to say she was closing her second hand store and would I pass on the boxes to the historical society when I finished. Yes, I would do that. Aware of my fast approaching move, I picked up the phone to see where the historical society contact lived. Can you believe she lived across the street?

Deep inside of me I had doubt about giving the boxes back, but because I'm stressed at the moment, I ignored that feeling and thought the story wasn't interesting enough. Our son is visiting this weekend. I found a phone number on a loose piece of paper. He insisted I phone knowing my head wasn't clear. The person at the other end of the phone was the deceased woman's daughter. She gave me the contact name for a person in Mackay who has researched the deceased woman's husband's family.

Extraordinary! All the pieces of this story are coming together because my son insisted I stop a moment and think about what I'm doing. I thank him for his commitment to me and my career and his own career, and for seeing things that I can't because I'm caught in the smog of life.

Are you missing opportunities because you're living in the smog?