What’s your frame of reference?

Washington Monument

For the moment I’m living in Virginia right next door to the capital of the United States.  I’m still in awe, partly because of the power, prestige and history that accompanies Washington DC and the surrounding areas, and partly because I never expected to be here.  I’ve decided though that since I’m here, and as long as I’m here, I’m going to frame it and view it as an adventure.

It’s hard to know where to start because there is just so much to see.  Paul and I rode our bikes into DC one Sunday stopping at various points along the way.  It started out as a beautiful morning but by the time we got into DC it was drizzling.  We managed to duck into a restaurant for lunch when the deluge started so we had quite a long lunch.  The ride home was light rain all the way and could have been miserable but we were having so much fun just being out, stopping here and there, and checking out the sights.  Maybe it was the drinks from lunch?  In any case, my view of the experience was rosy despite the rain.

Wednesday morning started with me feeling excited.  I had been invited to a coffee morning get together in an area I had never been.  I decided to drive since I had to meet Paul after.  My excitement waned as I began to experience the DC traffic; but because we moved in such small bursts I was able to take in my surroundings – the charm of Georgetown, the massive churches, shops at every end of the scale, including Tiffany’s.  Now I know how to get there, next time I’ll stop in!

Knowing I had to go back through the same traffic to meet Paul I didn’t stay long having coffee.  Except now the traffic seemed even slower and I started to get agitated.  I no longer saw the charm; I only saw the long line of cars in front of me that weren’t moving.  When I finally got to the highway I was already going to be fifteen minutes late and then I missed my exit.  Arrrgghh!

You have to understand.  My father was not a military man but he was always a stickler for time and being on time.  A real contradiction considering he is a West Indian and they are rarely on time people.  Not only was it in my genes but I now live with a military man whose philosophy is that if you are not five minutes early, you’re late.  I was horribly late that morning.  My view was distorted by annoyance and frustration.

In trying to find the right entrance to meet Paul I stopped a woman to ask for directions.  I hesitated to stop her because she looked like she was in a worse hurry than me.  Her face was set, she was leaning forward into her stride, and her body was stiff.  But I was desperate.  Looking back now I think I could identify with her because she looked like how I was feeling.  However, the moment I spoke to her, she softened and relaxed.  She gave me directions with a smile and a spirit of generosity that I didn’t expect.  And once again my view changed.

I relaxed, I got quiet, and I took a deep breath.  I was right where I was supposed to be and all was well.  I will remind myself of that a lot sooner the next time my view is moving toward agitation.