Today I went on a series of journeys to respond to my growing love of painting. Between art supplies and plants I have a challenge with stuff (however illuminating that stuff is!) just like my husband has with cars and clocks.
I was impatient to get home and begin exploring my artistic side, and pulled to a stop at an intersection. When the light turned green I wondered why the person in front of me was taking so long to accelerate. It seemed an interminable moment. I imagined an elderly person hesitant or a person attached to their cell phone. In my impatience. I admit to giving way to unseemly expletives. For a time, I forgot my humanity and wisdom derived over time that not all things are what they seem.
In minutes the reason was revealed. A bicyclist was making a way towards the hill, busily peddling in front of the car before me. I had not seen the bicyclist. It was a sobering reminder that the reasons for certain experiences are not always readily apparent.
It is easy for us to forget that life does not always respond to our immediate need for gratification because it may have a better idea. Like the bicyclist, I didn’t see there was a good reason that someone took their time to move forward. In the absence of that perspective, a crisis could have resulted. We don’t always see why there is a pause, but if we trust, we might find that a pause is not only to our benefit but to the benefit of many others.
The garden provides testimony to this fact. Daily it delays and emerges in sync to a timing expertly orchestrated. Obviously that synchronism is well tailored to nature’s expertise. If nature listened to our human cry for instantaneous indulgence we would never see the splendor beyond.
When I drove past the bicyclist I was properly humbled, reminded that I need to bide my time well and embrace the hidden treasures that lie just beyond the bend.