The universe occasionally finds a need to test my sense of humor, and, for some reason, it chooses the peculiar locale of the Haggen parking lot for these trials. This is the third time the focus of my writing is the fifty-foot stretch between my favorite parking spot and the supermarket’s front door.
I had finished shopping and was about to transfer groceries to the car when a sudden gust of wind snatched my shopping list from the cart and sent it flying across the parking lot. When I tried to follow it, the wind matched my pace: if I moved faster, so did the paper; when I stopped, it stopped.
Frustrated, I looked for witnesses to a potential littering charge. A lady watched from a few cars away, waiting to see my next move. Anger welled up inside me.
I took a deep breath. Realizing the absurdity of being angry at the wind, I decided to play along with the universe. Reframing the scene as a cosmic game changed everything. I smiled, and with new confidence in my step, I joined the chase.
How could I lose? The walk would do me good. Maintaining an even pace, I caught up to the shopping list after walking 100 yards. The sun emerged from the clouds, revivifying the sky with a sparkle, perhaps refreshed by the universe’s bizarre antics on that small patch of holy ground known as Haggen.