infinite possibilities

My youngest son is graduating from high school this weekend. When we looked at graduation announcements a few months ago, he said he would like something other than the standard offerings. I, buoyed by an unusual sense of creative confidence, offered to make his announcement.  After conversations about Tool’s “Lateralus”, the Fibonacci sequence, spirals, an impromptu photo shoot in our back yard, and numerous creative attempts and trips to discount stores and clearance aisles, I created a number of items to celebrate  this important time in my youngest child's life.

Little did I know that when I had two sons, ten years apart, there would be one month in which the eldest would get married and graduate from law school, while the other graduated from high school and commenced preparations for university life. Nor did I suspect that the Monday before graduation,  my husband would narrowly escape a potentially tragic automobile accident, when someone, driving at a high rate of speed, chose to run a stop sign, side-swipe my husband’s truck and send him into a storm-drenched bar ditch.

I guess you could say, instead of “March Madness”, we’ve been experiencing a bit of “May Madness.”

But it’s all good--right now, at this moment.

I often think that creating and living employ the same process. You start with a basic concept, but as multiple options arise (some invited, some seemingly unbidden, and some an odd mixture of both), you inevitability make choices, which lead to other options and more choices.  At this point in my life, I’ve adopted the adage—“I know nothing, but suspect something.”

More than anything, this month has reaffirmed the preciousness and mystery of life. It’s evident that we choose . . . we live . . .  we create . . .  in a realm of infinite possibilities.