Today marks my first driving experience on an expressway. I'll admit I was a little nervous because I haven't touched a steering wheel in months and surely it would be daunting to do this after such a long hiatus. But I have my father to thank. He was guiding me patiently by my side and somehow I do feel more confident for the entire journey.
I was actually heading to school for a short briefing, but ended up getting stuck there for awhile due to the torrential rain. I usually don't drink my coffee hot, but I thought with the weather and all, it might be more sensible to savour a cup of my favourite beverage warm. I don't attempt to illustrate in an exaggerating or particularly artistic manner the pitter-patter of droplets on the stony peripheral of the walkway, but it did produce a rather rhythmic pulse that evoked more melancholy than excitement. In moments as such it seems difficult not to be tempted to allow oneself to muse deeply. So as I stared out to the pouring rain, it dawned on me that so many things in my life are taken for granted. We usually find the heart to award gratitude to the major events in our lives, but somehow unconsciously neglect the mundane and repetitive activities that have imprinted themselves to be nothing more than a routine norm, to be expected of unhindered performance in most ordinary circumstances. Isn't it wonderful that the kettle is always filled with water to quench a thirst? Isn't it wonderful that the water is heated for a shower on such a cold day? Isn't it wonderful that all the clothes are neatly folded and hanged in their rightful places? So I asked myself, "How long has my father been driving the family around now?"
Of so many things I can't imagine myself living without, it seems odd that only a few manage to pop up on my list of items to be thankful for. I urge you to review your habits once in a while so that you might consider dishing out a few thank-yous where they might be due.
There is no certainty for eternity.
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