I was telling someone a few weeks ago that I'm writing about tranquility; and how I think it becomes both more attainable and more precious the older we get. She thought it over and said, "It's always temporary."
"YES!" I said, because I'd come to the same conclusion just the day before. It's ALWAYS temporary. Sometimes big things interrupt it, sometimes little ones; but it's always getting away from us. That's why we need to remember and reclaim it.
For instance -- and I hate even going down this road, but there it is -- some fool who lives up the way from me takes her dog onto the tennis court. I'm fine with that part. I take my dog onto the tennis court, and he chases the tennis ball and smells all around the base of the fence. If my compadre's along, the two of them take a nice lope or two around the net. And then we leave.
This person to whom I'm referring with the dog? She lets her dog take a dump on the tennis court and then -- because apparently that's not proof positive of what a slob you are -- she doesn't pick it up but leaves the pile there. I fume about this matter every time I catch sight of the tennis court.
The most gracious way I could resolve the matter is to use one of the extra bags I always carry and pick up her dog's refuse. What I actually WANT to do is put a sign on the fence that says, "If you can't pick it up, get rid of the pup." That's not completely true; really I'd rather install a flashing arrow in front of her house under a sign saying PICK UP AFTER YOURSELF.
Yep, that's me: tranquil as all get out up until the moment I'm not. Or until the moment I think about the moment I started being not tranquil. Which is to say it's only ever temporary. Luckily, we can step back toward it whenever we're ready to stop having our life disrupted by a (no doubt sweet) dog we don't even know.