Ready or Not

What if we all were to just share where we’re at through the day? Perhaps we would recognize the similarities and differences in the common flux of emotions that change with the ticking of the clock. Maybe, we would just have a good laugh together at how goofy we all are in our best attempt to navigate the day.

For example, this morning was one for the books. Slow to rise, I faced challenge after challenge. Stiff and achy joints made all sorts of noises as I crawled out of bed and headed to the bathroom, only to see my hair pointing at all four corners of the earth. “Throwing a hat on that for sure,” I say aloud to myself and laugh.

Yes, smiling in the mirror and watching the warmth reflect, is part of my morning routine. It reminds me that I am here, and alive. On days when I am not rushing I will even lean in a little closer and really look at the linear markings left from days past. Sometimes, if I need an extra boost before heading into the day, I will even call myself out by name. Aging is undoubtedly a beautiful, strange phenomenon.

After handling the morning breath and not dealing with the bedhead, I was dressed and ready to head to the bus stop. Yet, just as I reached for the door knob I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket: Google Maps alerting me that I just missed the bus. Awesome. I sigh, inhale a deep breath, and then mentally draft out my next move.

Knowing I have another forty minutes to catch the next bus, I accept the fact I will be tardy to my shift by just a few minutes. Frustrated with myself I verbally state, “It’s okay.” Is it really okay to be late to work? No, not at all. Nothing in my being finds being tardy okay, yet somehow I have been tardy a lot as of late. Thinking of a Santa Claus sized list of excuses, I quickly push them away. No, not today. Taking a different approach to the pre-work routine, I step back away from the door and free flow my mimicked translation of Tai-Chi. As I move, slow and controlled, I feel the stress of missing the bus fall away. In the here and now, this is what I am capable of: breathing and moving. My joints popped and squeaked throughout the movements, but after a solid ten minutes of letting myself flow I felt ready to head to the bus stop.

Attempt two. I wheel my bike out of my apartment door and pull it shut behind me. Double check that it's locked and then mount my bike. The first few rotations of peddling were slow as I let my knees and hips adjust to the circular movements. All the while smiling, proud that I got some morning grounding in and a few extra minutes to breathe. I ride past the corner of the building and in the next moment I am greeted by the warmth of the seven o’clock sun. I smile even bigger. “See, the morning is still off to a great start,” I think to myself.

About halfway to the bus stop I feel the wind breeze across my back. Light and free. Wait! Knowing full well why the breeze on my back felt different this morning versus other days. Today, I was not wearing my backpack weighed down with essential tools for the work shift. Instantly at that thought, I make a u-turn and head back toward the apartment. I pedal faster than the mellow speed I was just at. As I approach my apartment door, I quickly hop off my bike and out of habit reach for the invisible bag on my back. I laugh, literally out loud, as I remember the whole reason I am back at my apartment is because I left my backpack. The keeper of my house keys. Just as I let my head fall in a sigh, I heard a door further down open up. My landlord stepping out for the morning, with a basket of laundry.

The walk up to her was one of humor and shame. “Good morning Jan, I definitely locked myself out (again). May I borrow the spare key?” She gives me this look that shows she's unamused and yet impressed, as she turns around to head back inside for the key. What’s not to be impressed about? At this point I’m probably the only tenant that’s locked herself out a solid seven times since moving in last November.

By the time I return the spare key to her, possess my backpack and remount my bike, I have officially missed the second bus option of the morning. I laugh again out loud. This time my laugh carries the sadness right out of me. What a comical morning. I really believed I was ready for the day the first time around. Oh, sweet misbelief.

“Ready!” I mumble as I begin again to pedal toward my original destination.