on your mark, get set, stop!

When I know where I'm headed, most of the time I just want to get there, so it's not unusual that I tend to end up resenting the red lights along the way. My commute to work is an example of this. I follow the same course daily so I've got the synchronization of the traffic lights down to a science, but every now and then, maybe once or twice a month, they are all out of whack. Every light I approach seems to be turning red and the journey not only consists of way more stops than anticipated, but more than I can afford thanks to my tendency to leave just in time for things. The foul up can cost me minutes when I don't have a single to spare.

I observed this afternoon that even when I don't have to be at a destination by a certain time, I still tend to choose my route carefully, bent on maximizing the number of green lights I can get through or minimizing the number of traffic lights altogether. Yeah, I'm just special like that. Despite not being in a hurry to get home for lunch, I found myself feeling slightly miffed to be encountering a red light at a certain busy intersection this afternoon. However, it was then that I came to realize: Every now and then, it can be good to be forced to stop.

In my 80 seconds at the red, I felt like I was forced to stop and look at the world around me. As I did, it seemed like I was seeing an intersection I pass through daily for the first time. In this country, change is the norm. As a friend so eloquently put it, "Taiwan is a busy, busy place. There is always something to do, somewhere to go, something to buy, something to build, something to re-build, something to repair, something to construct..."

I think I've arrived at the place where I'm so used to the constant state of change that I fail to even notice changes. Spring has arrived - that time of the year that symbolizes life, change, and renewal. Yet, in my zipping through life, I fail to perceive the signs around me. At home in the States, Spring tends to enter with a colorful, dramatic flair, but in my part of Taiwan, the change is more delicate and subtle, and with the distractions of life, can easily go unnoticed.

One of the things I noticed during my time-out today were the trees that lined the roadway's median strip. How is it that I've never really noticed them before? At first glance, they appeared hideous. The gawky skeletal trees were almost grotesque with their knobby branches. I'm sure I had some slightly contorted expression on my face upon first spying them. But then, suddenly, I began to notice the vibrant orange flowers they bore, so seemingly out of place against something so harsh. Once I noticed them, I wondered why my eyes weren't immediately drawn to them in the first place? How could I have so easily overlooked something so beautiful and striking? When I took time to look at the whole picture, the tree became beautiful, taking on an almost exotic quality.

Within the noisy, polluted, hustle and bustle of the city, again something seemed out of place. Perhaps it was the contrast of life against all that has been constructed. As I drive around the city or go out for a run, I love seeing such things as vines crawling on walls and flowers growing through pavement cracks and even sewer drains. I like to see the persistence of life as well as the reminders of nature and a creation far greater than anything man can fabricate.