I saw a mouse run across a busy six-lane road today. On the way from the airport, I exited at I-70 and Peoria Street to fill my car’s gas tank. Stopped at a light, what seemed like a tiny tumbleweed rolling underneath the car in front of me caught my eye. Transfixed by its path, I watched the slight, tan object “roll” across the road. Little did I know I was about to receive a powerful message of trial, triumph and gratitude.
What I thought was an errant stick in an otherwise fairly uniformly spherical tumbleweed actually was a tail. The object that had caught my attention was that mouse, that in the process of rushing across the road, dodging tires, slipping underneath axles and jumping over rocks, on occasion took a spill and tumbled forth, rolling into a little ball in the process. But even in taking these frequent stumbles, he (or she) rolled into a little ball, took the stumble in stride and like a well-trained athlete, fell out of the roll with precision, not missing a step on its journey to cross this busy street. It couldn’t have been more than four inches long and I could almost feel its focus and intention to “get to the other side.”
Now I watched with zeal. Here comes a semi-truck-oh!-now an SUV, a Ford fiesta, another semi. With each passing car I clenched the steering wheel, gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes tightly closed, expecting to see a mouse pancake when I mustered the courage to open them once again. But with each passing car the mouse prevailed, running in a zig-zag pattern under and around the cars zipping by on this busy road. When it reached the other side, I found myself exhaling a long and audible sigh of relief, and an unexpected smile cross my lips in celebration for the little mouse that could.
Watching it complete the journey by jumping the curb in one leap, scurrying across the sidewalk and disappearing into the freshly clipped lawn, I took note of my reaction. How surprising, over the short span of time spent at a red light, to flow through a bevy of emotion — from angst to worry, fear and triumph.
As the light turned green and I continued my own journey, I thought of all the challenges we face in our lives — how they sometimes seem insurmountable, but somehow we get through them — often better off at the completion of the journey than we were at the beginning. Perhaps the little mouse was sent as a reminder of how well we can work under pressure, and how things are never as bad as they seem — no matter how bad they may seem in the moment. How interesting that in the hustle and bustle of a hot day, in hectic traffic on a road filled with giant automobiles (well, giant compared to this comparatively Lilliputian mouse), I would catch something so small on a fleeting glance.
But I’m so thankful I did. For me, it was yet another reason to reflect on all that we have and all we’re given — health, family, limbs, and opportunity. Everyone has something. And when our somethings don’t seem like much, when the obstacles seem too large to tackle, one needs only to remember the little mouse, and his brief journey across the road of life. He made it, and you can too.
Lifestyle expert Doni Luckutt believes by increasing interpersonal connection, we can stop simply living, and become Simply Alive! If you have a suggestion on what brings you to life, connect with her on Twitter @SimplyAlive, via email Doni@SimplyAliveWorld.com or on her blog: www.SimplyAliveWorld.com/Blog.
