We’ll Cross That Bridge When We Get There…

 

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View from the Top of the Ravenel Bridge in Charleston on a fine March morning

I am a self-acknowldged planner. I don’t just want to know what is happening tomorrow, or next week, but I would like life to show me the next ten years, complete with road map and all the major stops along the way pre-determined. Yes, I am laughig too, fifty years of life has shown me that life’s take on plans is how to distrupt them.

As a child I wanted to know what was next, how would we handle various contingencies and I have strong memories of my daddy often saying, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”  I found that response to my queries to be extremely frustrating and disconcerting. If the hero in my life didn’t know than how was it all going to work out?

I learned over time to silently work out scenarios in my head as a way to prepare myself for whatever curve ball might come my way. This has served me weill in emergency prepardness plans, personally and as I have lead classrooms full of children through, fire, earthquake, tornado and active shooter drills. I have been trained in emergency tourniquets and have contingency plans ready for a variety of horrific events. My scenario processing has also helped me to remain calm when facing decisions, chances are I’ve thought about the decision well before I actually had to make it.

However, life has a funny way of throwing a scenario at you that your wildest imagination hadn’t even considered. That road map through a decade has some detours that were unmakrd and even some side roads that have such a strong allure you can’t help but make a little exploration.

The troubled waters are alway looming and while some preparation can be helpful in figuring out how you might cross them, what kind of bridge you might need to contruct, Often times the truly best options don’t present themselves until you are standing on the banks searching for the way forward.

I’ve been in a season of my life this past year where obligations and some side-roads on my map have taken me away from my writing life. A novel I had planned to finish and publish last fall and then this spring has moved from riding shotgun, to the back seat and then stowed away in the trunk. The bridge back to it has been a bit elusive and I have come to the conclusion that it’s okay. My school year, which has demanded so much from me, but which I have also loved and the friend who has needed extra care and help from me, also which I have loved to provide, are both lessening in the demands. My focus on my health by establishing a regular exercise routine is part of life now and not such a destracting burden and a new summer season is a mere ten weeks away and I can see my way back to my writing work.

I don’t want to jinx it by putting it in ink on my road map, so for now I’ll just say, “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

 

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