Words of wisdom, volume 1

If you're always looking down at the gauges or in the rearview mirror, you can't enjoy what's right outside your window. The gauges are for emergencies. They'll let you know they need you when it's time, so stop checking. And the mirror, well, you're backwards in that anyway. So eyes front.

Excessive navel gazing not only makes one neurotic, but makes it seem like you're not interested in anything else. Usually, too, whatever you're contemplating turns out to not be a big deal, but just a small piece of lint, easily overlooked and/or tossed away. Or it's a small blip in an otherwise large picture.

You can so do it, just by encouraging yourself as you round the hill on the 1/4-mile track, just one more time... a little while more... because that burn is a good thing. Then reward yourself by stopping to smell the honeysuckle in bloom. It's the only walking in circles that actually takes you somewhere fabulous, back to the you you remember, the one hidden underneath all those protective layers.

And sometimes, the charred remains of somebody's dream house reminds you that everyone gets their turn. Not you? Then someone down the block -- this time. Something so glorious, so bright and mesmerizing, yet so destructive -- orange glowing, illuminating the night sky for all to see, almost mocking, while melting a world into oblivion. Now, black holes where windows looked out onto the green grass, the new world of each day. The charred remains of "there's no place like..." Rebuild on a new day, in a new way, from the ashes.