It’s Okay if Things Go “Sploosh”

Sometimes I find myself consumed with what-ifs. So consumed in fact, that my thoughts have no where to go but straight to panic mode. As I planned for a recent girls weekend, (one that my worry-logged nerves desperately needed) I asked Hubby to help me with getting a load of firewood. My gal pals and I were staying at a secluded cabin, complete with wood-burning fireplace, and the weatherforecast was calling for snow.

After some impressive chainsaw brandishing, Hubby and I had filled a tractor bucket full of logs. When I told my loving lumberjack that I would stack the logs on the flatbed to drive to the cabin, he told me not to worry. He would simply dump the wood right on the truck, and it would be ready to go. Immediately, my internal anxiety alarms started sounding in my head. He asked if I was okay with that plan. I told him all I could picture in my mind were the logs going “sploosh” as he put them on the truck or flying off as we drove down the highway. He firmly but lovingly put his hands on my shoulders and said, “It’s okay if things go ‘sploosh’ sometimes.”

With that statement my tears wanted to splash but, instead, I found a giggle for his use of “sploosh.”

I knew he was right and maybe, just maybe, if I could get over my fear of the potential “splooshes” in life, I could get past the nervousness that has been nagging at me so heavily lately.

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Links to Happiness

I’ve never worked in a paper clip factory. I never thought about what it would be like to make paper clips all day long. I had not considered what it must be like to have a career solely based on those cartons of curved, organizational magic… that is until I opened my most recent box of paper clips.

Upon lifting the lid to a brand new box, I discovered a very long chain of clips connected to one another. Surely, this is not a normal product of the paper clip making process. Someone somewhere took the time to construct this impressive chain of fasteners. Perhaps their intent was to frustrate the recipient of the chain, or maybe its creation served to pass the time during an unfortunate shut-down at the plant, or it could be that the chain’s maker was just trying to make a connection with someone else in a unique way. Whatever the reason, I was now the intrigued owner of a very long paper clip chain.

When I showed my daughter, she said, “That’s cool, but now you can’t use those paper clips.”

“Why can’t I use them?” was my reply.

“Because then you wouldn’t have the chain anymore,” she stated and walked away.

I guess she was right. I needed a paper clip, not a chain of them, but there were Intentergy moments in those links.

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