Searching

This morning I was thinking about Legos. My big brother used to have a big tub full of them, and we would dump them all out onto the floor of his room and build stuff for hours. Well, he would build stuff, cool stuff, like helicopters and tanks. I mostly built towers (i.e. random, aimless stacks of Legos) and stables for my extensive My Little Pony collection. Hey, what I lacked in skill, I made up for in enthusiasm.

Anyway, even though my amateur Lego projects were mostly aimless, I always had a very specific idea of which piece I wanted to find next: a long, skinny, yellow piece with four dots, maybe, or a red, rectangular thingy. If I could only find that one piece, I could finish this darn stable for good. The My Little Pony herd would be happy.

You can see where this is going. I could never find the one piece I wanted. A giant pile of Legos on the floor is good for one thing: stepping on with your bare feet in the dark and causing you to strongly consider pawning your children off to the nearest band of gypsies. It is not ideal for building the Lego structure of your dreams.

I often found that as soon as I stopped looking for that one piece I wanted, I would come across it in my search for something else. Sometimes I was delighted and couldn't believe my luck. Others, I realized that an alternative had worked just as well in its place. But either way, it was only when I stopped looking for what I thought I wanted that the universe decided to give me exactly what I needed.

I'm a big fan of having plans, so I often need to remind myself to not fear life's interruptions, to not forsake its detours.

Focus is admirable, but the narrow-minded pursuit of one thing will blind you to the other possibilities. It's always a good idea to take a look around; perhaps a fresh look at where you've been will redirect where you're going.

(Excruciatingly posted from my Vibrant)