While working with my webmail, rather than producing the required action I initiated (SEND, OPEN), twice today I instead received a  "loading..." status. So I waited.  And I waited. And waited. Watching.  Waiting.  Sighing. Staring out the window, back at the monitor, tapping my fingers.  "What are you loading?" I asked.  (Seriously.)  "The universe in a coin purse?  My message is only two sentences long!"   And then I waited some more.

I waited until it finally occurred to me that nothing was loading but my impatience, which ran out, so I closed the browser and started over.  The second go-around, everything went bada-bing, bada-bang smoothly.

            It's not the first time I've received that "loading..." status message, and usually the email program actually meant it. After a few moments, voila! ACTION!  But those times when it took me way too long to figure out that it was never going to load--that something had gone technically askew which would not be fixed by years of waiting (and I'm talking more than electronic fails here)--I felt like a gullible moron.  How many times will it take, Charlene? 

           

The one I'm talking about was light blue

Other times, no matter what the endeavor or message, I simply tripped my trigger. No waiting for anything. Like the time I finished a speaking engagement and was told the same kind folks who shuttled me from my hotel that morning were scheduled to pick me up outside the church and take me back.  When I saw the distinctive, old, boxy panel-sided blue Buick Roadmaster station wagon pull up, eager to get back to my hotel and crash, I was uber relieved.  I opened the door, hopped in and said, "Boy am I glad to see you!"

            The elderly gentleman driving the vehicle craned his neck and, as I was fastening my seatbelt, with very wide eyes said, "Really?"

           Wrong car. 

Who knew two such unusual vehicles traveled the same circuit at the same church?!

            Somewhere between waiting for nothing and getting ahead of everything resides the perfect tempo and judgment.  Sometimes engaging a brain before assuming a circumstance is helpful. However, if one thinks too long or starts tallying every single possibility (as if!), it's easy to chicken out or say NO to something that would otherwise make one's life so much richer.

            Discernment.  Getting "it" right.  Paying attention.  Listening to the gut.  Researching the possibilities.  Applying caution.  Proceeding with fearless abandon.  So many choices, so many critical impasses and ways to go wrong. 

So easy to let fear or impatience stop us and call it a day.

            And yet, so much serendipity, so many perfect gusts of grace, so many times "coincidence" saves us from ourselves or launches ridiculous joy.  So many people to step up and step in, just when we're about to make a mistake.

What I'm going to say next is nothing new, but sometimes the obvious is worth a repeat.  After 64 years on this planet, I have concluded that our job is to show up and do our best, one day--one loading (or not)-- moment at a time.  Our responsibility is to squeeze the gusto, let go the anger, batten the hatches, man the ship, grab onto the tail, ride the wave, compromise the difficut ... whatever it takes.  And if at first we don't succeed, we can move onto the next procedure and the next, until we get it right or realize it's time to give in, move on, cut our losses (which might actually be gains), take the other path, ring another bell, turn it over to the next guy or gal who's better equipped to handle the circumstance, or realize that maybe, just maybe, we were wrong in the first place. 

"Always question your assumptions."  Heard it at a conference. Wrote it down in a notebook.  Branded it in my heart. Wrote a whole chapter about in Don't Miss Your Life!

            That, dear TwinkleGrammers, is the beauty of us. One can step up when another falls short.  Yin and Yang.  Dark and light.  Tall and short.  Alpha and Omega.  If we stick together until we find the right balance, sha-zaam!

If we share our honest stories, admit our dumbest failings, spill our terrible grief and keep our arms open, together we can laugh at our human failings and foibles until we cry, and cry until we at long last can laugh again.  Together, balanceing life out, we can make it.