the power of me

have you ever wondered what would have happened if, at a crossroads, you had chosen differently?  i have, and i think it's natural to do this.  i am talking about this in the purest form possible; i don't mean it in a regretful sort of way, like wishing for a different path and outcome or something else entirely... i am talking about hypothesizing a 'what if' scenario just to have something to ponder.  the feelings about the possible change in destiny are unattached during these ruminations; it is more like having a passing thought jumping around in my brain.  just an, i wonder...

as i've grown older and busier and had to make decisions about nearly every aspect of my life, these thoughts do not come up as often.  there simply isn't time to entertain such things like i did as a teen, since i now know the difference between reality and fantasy.  but my subconscious, it seems, isn't hesitant to indulge in matters of reflection.

last night i dreamt about a person in my past, very jennifer weiner-like in one of my favorite short stories of hers in the guy not taken.  the scene was real and the plot was belieavable, nearly expected.  i saw myself and my life unraveling, only to be awoken by daylight and the keen sense that i had just survived a nightmare.  it was a glimpse into the life i could have had.. that is, if i'd been a doormat and had remained unchanged since 8 long years ago.  but the key point is, i'm not the same, and also something else: my steps are variable because i play a vital role in my plan.  so the dream was just that -- a dream, completely fabricated in my mind, formulated by past experience, unaware of the power of me.

take a picture

i'm currently reading fly away home by jennifer weiner.  one of the main characters, lizzie, keeps a camera strapped to her neck and is consistently tempted to snap a photo of her sister diana, but reminds herself that diana doesn't like to be photographed.  the feeling of disappointment i sense from lizzie dropping her hands from her camera each time resonates with me.  how many times have i thought during my day, "i wish i had my camera with me"?  sometimes i instinctively reach for it in my purse, where i try to keep it at all times, but come up with nothing.  and by then, the moment has passed anyway.

during my morning commute, i was held up by a line of cars in front of me when i first merged onto the highway.  looking ahead, i noticed a construction vehicle hauling a sign flashing WET PAINT, KEEP LEFT.  so naturally, i looked left, wondering why all the cars ahead of me were moving right, when i realized the 2 left lanes were blocked off by cones.  my guess was that the lines had just been painted on that side and needed drying.  but this kind of put everyone in a pickle, trying to stay left when there was no lane, slowly scooting down the middle of the road.  oh, if only i had my camera then!

and then, as if my own musings could be heard aloud, this afternoon we received a follow-up story to the squirrel infestation that had my coworkers and i close to tears from laughing so hard, saying we all wished we could have had a picture of squirrel adventures, part 2.

i have so many moments like these, big and small, throughout my day.  most are probably like the situations above -- trivial, tiny tidbits -- but aren't most moments just stepping stones leading up to bigger events?  what's the point in sharing only the critical happenings when there are so many other little occurrences that make up every one of our days?  that give our lives substance and understanding?

and how often do i find myself alone, witnessing something that no one else i know is seeing, wishing so much afterwards that i had a snapshot of that specific moment in time, which will never happen again?  a moment that will never be repeated, unique to not only me but to the world?  and as soon as i realize this impossible identity, that moment.. is gone.