a dance

 Some time ago, a friend wrote about her appreciation for the beauty of a day when she completed all her errands in order and as planned. I know what she meant, for I, too, appreciate the well-executed Dance of Efficiency. 

Not surprisingly, I find my life happier and far less stressful with carefully crafted routines and rituals. Each morning, I wake to my morning ablutions, all in the same order. It is the small things, like music when I shower; my razor right where I left it. In general, I am a moderately organized person. I am not organized for the sake of organization; rather, for the effects. I smile a little when I run out of shaving cream, open the cabinet and there is a spare. It’s like a dance, almost graceful. 

I like traveling. Long ago, I dreaded the logistics of the trip, but loved the destination. I had a few wonderful vacations where the joy of the arrival was heightened by the adrenaline of the air travel. I once forgot about a sailing knife in my bag. TSA reminded me about it, before taking  it away. I liked that knife. I once forgot about the time difference in the Dallas airport. Wow, that was some excitement! Over time, however, I made friends with air travel, developing an almost-religious set of rituals. I find it surprisingly gratifying to walk serenely through the security checkpoint, greeting TSA with a smile, then putting my shoes back on before a drink in the airport bar. There is almost always a swirl of angry chaos in this place, yet it doesn’t quite touch me; it’s like a rabid dog, but I know exactly how long its leash.