Today was one of "those" days. You know the type. The one's where you're driving up 75 at 6:50am and you suddenly see this weird picture light up that looks like some symbol from the table of elements. I'm still just assuming it was the "check engine" light. So you get off at the next exit, turn off your car and realize that it won't turn on again. It's cool, you think, that's why you have a warranty. Then you find out the tow truck will be there in two and a half hours. And there you are, sitting at a Suntrust Bank...at 7:02am. No book. No other form of entertainment. Well, except for a mango you brought to eat for breakfast that you can't eat because you don't travel with your knife block.
As much as it sucks that I found myself in that exact place this morning, I realized it's kind of a gift. It's like God yanked all my lists and "busy-ness" out of my hands. Not that I didn't put up a fight, but He slowed that internet connection down so much I started to refer to it as my Stupid-phone. So I plopped down on the sidewalk and watched an ant. No, I didn't get some huge revelation about life from this ant. Nor did I find his (or her?) journey particularly interesting. But my mind got the space to wander. Not the kind of wandering with boundaries like brainstorming or figuring out a problem, but open wandering.
I really love my life. I really love my husband and my dog and my friends and my family. And my cats (man they would be so mad if they knew they were an afterthought...) I love my job and my awesome clients and I even love my not so awesome clients. It's funny because, for me, I can get to this place of crazy restlessness so quickly. I feel like my brain starts pacing around in my head yelling about why Matt and I haven't moved overseas to have our great adventure yet. Or why I haven't started that non-profit for sexually trafficked victims that will simultaneously bring down the entire sex trade industry. Or why I'm not a famous actress working on my first film I want to direct by now. It's a little maddening. But in this amazingly rare moment of freedom from enslaved thought, I felt full. I'm sure that little devil in my head will start back up again momentarily, and I'm glad she does. She's the reason I had the courage to step out and start my own business in the first place. But I don't want to forget that in the midst of pushing for more, I am full exactly where I am.