Fork, fork, fork ...
~ road, road, road, more roads, fences and other obstacles
Are we there yet?
Where we are going, or believe we are going, or should be going, isn’t a smooth planning process of, ‘beginning with the end in mind’ …
Who has the time to do that.
Too many things to do, decide, fix, organize, redirect energy and efforts, rethink ideas and get people to align their thinking … too many.
How about you?
How many things do you have on your plate for any given day?
And what is the wisdom, value, consequence, potential and ‘best possible outcome’ of all the we juggle?
And why juggle, when a shuffle will do; why manage when ‘hands off’ will do?
Hands off, or hands on; focus, push, pressure, speed, don’t drop the ball - or don’t pick up the ball, don’t pick up the pace - it’s not supposed to be a race.
But maybe, based on the choices we make, it is a race, the impending deadline for one thing might be the jumping off date to the next new thing - and each item on my list, each task and file and project on my desk is just one of those type of decisions - the all look like a fork in the road. Choose left or right, choose up or down, choose forward or back - and once that decision is made - the moment after the decision to choose a fork, the other fork begins a second-guessing game in our head.
Where we end up, where we end, when we get there - how we get there, wherever our ‘there’ is ~ is a process reminiscent of when our kids were young the frequent question coming from the back seat was: “Dad, are we there yet?”
Or, if you like malapropism, the master of malapropisms:
When you come to a fork in the road, take it. ~ Yogi Berra*
* While giving directions to his best friend Joe Garagiola to his house in Montclair, Yogi told Joe to take the fork. The fork was unique in that no matter which direction you chose, you would end up at Yogi and Carmen's house.
I publish this Musings column daily and post poems, short stories and other ‘plus/+’ content weekly. Many of you enjoy this content for free, and I truly appreciate your readership. Paid subscriptions are modest: $8 monthly (26¢ a day), $72 annually (20¢ a day), or you can donate any amount. Paid subscribers get extra content, but everyone is welcome - your presence matters. But if you haven't yet become a paid subscriber, I'd be grateful if you'd consider it. Thank you for reading Musings, and thanks to Substack for supporting writers like me. Warm regards, Mark
The world has gotten so crazy that I'm not sure where "there" is anymore!