Do I stand a better chance at lessening my frustration by driving out onto the 2-lane highway ( that promises delivery from ho hum to exciting ) at the one and only light in town, or, take my chances waiting for traffic to clear stationed at one of the other two neighborhood exit points, the corners without the light?

I take the light.  This traffic light affords structure and relative security – well, that is unless a big truck barrels down upon us, running the red.  And by the way, that’s happened more times than I care to witness.  Where are you highway patrol?  I have no patience for the traffic coming off the bridge to clear in time to beat the ending of the song I’m listening to at that moment.  It’s a contest really.  The song has to outlast my wait-time for traffic to clear.  If the traffic is ongoing and the last note has been played in the song, I have to re-play and hope that traffic clears on cue the 2nd go-round.

Go – a one-word metaphor for the method with which I attack life.  Please, no barriers I can’t maneuver around or over the top of.  I’m willing, however, to make one concession.  The red traffic light serves a purpose.  One can’t be on perpetual “Go” without eventually feeling spent.  Stopping in measured intervals is necessary for the health and well-being of each of us.  I know.  Many moments of my life have been spent ignoring the signal to stop.  My mouth runs on, my numerous thoughts make competing noise.  A few blown fuses later and I must concede the value of the pause.  A pause masquerades as a stop with lesser degree of interruption.  I can’t stand interruptions.  Let the momentum flow.

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