Signs
Luci Shaw
In time of drought, let us be
thankful for this very gentle rain,
a gift not to be disdained
though it is little and brief,
reaching no great depth, barely
kissing the leaves' lips. Think of it as
mercy. Other minor blessings may
show up—tweezers for splinters,
change for the parking meter,
a green light at the intersection,
a cool wind that lifts away summer's
suffocating heat. An apology after
a harsh comment. A word that opens
an unfinished poem like a key in a lock.
Humans are constantly looking for signs, reading the tea leaves of life for assurance or change or an end in sight.
- Signs of spring
- Signs of a change in weather
- Signs of approval
- Signs he really likes me
- Signs I made the right decision
- Signs I am in labor
- Signs I have lost some weight
- Signs my kids are alright
- Signs you made it, of success
- Signs a friend might need help
- Signs she is telling the truth
- Signs the chemo is working
- Signs things will get better, have turned the corner
- Signs this too shall pass
- Signs I haven’t lost my mind
- Signs of aging
- Signs from the universe, from God
- Signs things are under control
Signs might let us know which path to choose when we find
ourselves at a fork in the road. Or, signs might reinforce a sense of control
in knowing that a higher power has a plan and a purpose for things a mere
mortal cannot manage. These days the talk revolves around signs the virus has
plateaued, signs the economy can reopen, signs we can slowly but surely put
this pandemic behind us.
I look for signs when I have a difficult decision to make. I
try to begin with a solid foundation of as much information and data as I can
personally collect, because simply trusting my gut tends to mean my decision
will be emotional. Not that emotions don’t have their place – I am human after
all. Rather, balancing my intuitive decision-making tendencies with deliberate
analytical decision making seems the best process for getting it right more
often than not. And, processing the decision, what I know and how I feel about
it, with a trusted friend insures I see things I might be missing in the larger
picture.
Five miles or five months or five successive turns in the
road might reinforce the “wisdom” of our decision or upon reflection might
reveal the true potential of choosing differently in hindsight. No matter: the
fork in the road is where all the learning can happen, where we grow as
individuals, where our character is tested, where we let go and roll with it,
because as we know the most flexible people tend to be the most capable of
dealing with whatever life throws their way.
I know the officials who are leading us through this
pandemic find themselves at a new fork in the road on a daily basis. I don’t
envy their position one bit. The life and death decisions at hand are
complicated and fraught with ambiguity. However, I know that I want them to
begin with analytical data with a broad lay of the land in their sights. I want
them to be other focused and have compassion but to rely on experts rather than
their own emotions. No fortune tellers or tarot cards or gurus or signs ought
to come into the picture. When at the forks in the road, I hope they make their
decisions with humility and mercy and a learning orientation. Moving decisively
from this vantage point might ultimately be the only real sign we need that we
can beat this virus and eventually emerge changed but whole.
