Potato chip bags are can be compared to the human existence. Created, labeled, and filled. After a bit of time they’re shipped off somewhere and settle quite a bit. The roads traveled cause some unsettling but the large part of the journey is typically fairly strait forward. For some bags things just go wrong from the beginning. The label is wrong, the contents are wrong, and sometimes they’re taken by someone less than copasetic.
The settling part is what has been on my mind. There are times when life has eased back and let things be. Those times can be dull or boring but it can also be hugely refreshing. The image of the lottery ball machine describes very well how things have been in my family lately. Opinions differed and philosophies clashed… For a long, long, time. Yesterday I knocked on my neighbors door. During our conversation he said “I thought you guys were mad at me or something. I thought, What have I done now?” In fact nothing had been done. We’d both been busy. Due to a lack of communication it seemed like there was something wrong. BAAAAHHHHNNN. Nope. Everything was fine. Now, after a 3 minutes conversation, all is well and I can expect the doorbell to ring.
Instead of a 3 minute conversation a seven, yes 7!, hour conversation took place recently with my aunt and uncle to clear things up. Of course the seven hours were not all filled with fervor but a large chunk of it was.
This bag of chips is settling down again. Since the chips fill the bag when they’re not in a sifted stated things look okay for the chips. At the beginning of course. But things have a way of changing and other circumstances affect the inside of your bag-o-chips. A bump here, a crash there, and then there is the kind pair of hands that delicately lifts, and opens the bag to separate each of the chips so as best to serve to someone. This bag of chips feels much better. Much. Not completely. I don’t think that’s really an option and that’s okay. Time for the daily shake down. Work calls and my mind and body feel ready.