Can you relate to the idea of walking through life with the blinders on? Becoming so laser beam focused on what you want, that everyone and everything around you is deemed irrelevant unless it pertains to you achieving your goal?
I blessed with the opportunity to witness my own blindness today. It all took place on my mundane drive to the gym. Per usual, I was determined and focused on the task ahead. Where I was going, what I was to do, and how long it should take. I’m a stickler for details, I even narrow in on where I intend to park before getting to the parking lot.
Call me lucky, but I seem to possess an uncanny ability to score prime parking spaces, regardless of time or location. I assumed today would be no different than any other, and I would pull into the parking lot and head directly for the two rows of parking located directly in front of the building.
Per usual, it appeared that that all the spaces had been taken, but then out of the corner of my eye I noticed an elderly gentleman getting into his car in the second row. In fear of losing my prime spot, I sped down the first row and began making my way up the second row. I was stalking the soon to be vacant space with eagle eye precision, I’m sure a slight drool could have been seen coming down the side of my face as I anticipated another victorious parking experience.
His small car was completely overshadowed by this large black SUV, as I approached noticing his reverse lights had already been activated, I made sure to offer him plenty of space to make his exit. My grin extending cheek to cheek at this point in satisfaction.
Nobody likes an overly anxious person sitting right behind them with their blinker flashing waiting for you to back out of a parking space, so in hopes of not repeating such a party foul I approached the space at a very slow and spacious pace. It was obvious at this point he could see me, and he began reverse now. Unexpectedly out of the corner of my eye something odd seemed to scream for my attention. I did a double take in astonishment and rubbed my eyes to make sure I was seeing clearly. Two vacant spots appeared in my peripheral only a few spaces down from where the man was backing out of, and directly adjacent to where my car remained stopped awaiting to head to my originally intended spot.
How on earth could I have missed two open spaces that were even closer to the front entrance? I had originally scanned both rows and all the spots seemed to have been taken. Blown away that I had missed them in the first place, I clumsily reached down to my gear leaver to shift the car into reverse so I could back park into one of the two newly revealed spaces. Just as I did this a car appeared in my rearview and would not leave me enough room to back into one of those spaces without having him or her to move.
While this situation left my completely gobsmacked, I still managed to come out victorious as the man pulled away and I parked in the intended space. I did miss out on something even better that I hadn’t even planned for, let alone had mapped out to even be an option. Life had provided for me in an unexpected way right before my eyes and I was oblivious to it.
I sat there frozen in the drivers seated, puzzled to think of how someone who considers himself so observant to have had missed out on such a glaring opportunity? I was frozen, glued to the seat, remorsefully thinking about just how many other circumstances I may have missed out on due to my fixation on what my brilliant mind had determined as supreme. Just when you are certain that you have the best plan of attack, the universe lovingly nudges back and greets you with a better opportunity than you originally planned for; if only you had been present along the way.
What a beautiful reminder that the world is still lovingly conspiring to my benefit, and not always pushing back at me as I often think. This caring, non-forceful, genius Spirit of the Universe is still alive and well. In the awe of this stillness I found myself greeting this immense power, and thankfully today I will view this experience as a blessing, instead of something I could use to shame myself for not being more present.