I do a lot of thinking. Envisioning how events "should" go. Walking through future moments, trying to alleviate any potential problem by excessive prior planning.
Where I fail is in verbalizing these much contemplated plans. No one else is privy to my well constructed, beautifully crafted perfection of an outing. And no one else really cares about my flaw-free mental image.
For I am surrounded by spontaneous free spirits who do not share my love of detail.
When I set out yesterday with my girls, dressed in coordinating little outfits, I had a specific image in my mind's eye. A sweet moment with the two darling cuddlebugs sitting side by side on a set of steps, holding hands. Fallen leaves would adorn the background, the well placed garland and Christmas bows adding a delightful splash of color.
That scenario was not even remotely achieved. My mental image was a complete failure. But the real thing, the thing I have learned to allow myself to enjoy more than the mental image, was wonderful. I was out with my girls, frolicking on one of the last temperate days before winter closes in. I watched as one collected rocks and the other tried to make crafts with leaves and gumballs. I saw the daring of the big one imitated by the little one. I heard happy laughter.
The real thing is so much better than my over-thought ideas. For the plans never seem to include happy laughter.
