there are 9 traffic lights between the JCC (where I do my indoor cycling) and my house.
each day I drive home I keep track of how many greens, reds, and if-I-slow-down-enough-it-will-turn-green-before-I-get-there's I encounter.
a typical morning has a pattern of 5-3-1.
I count not because I'm neurotic, but because it gives me something to think about besides how tired, hungry, sweaty, or cold I am. over the years, it's become a game of sorts, and I often make predictions of how many greens I will have.
yesterday morning I had 9 greens. no kidding, all 9 lights were green for me. that's a sign, she shouts! woo hoo! life is ready to go my way!
this morning I had 9 greens again. this hasn't happened since . . . well, yesterday . . . but before that, I can't remember when.
there's something magical about green lights. I can't be the only one who is so easily pleased by them: to be told go ahead, go, all is well is an extraordinary thing in this life. I can't help but be pleased and grateful each time one appears in my life, whether it's a traffic light, encouraging words from a mentor, an order for business, a request for my input.
or, possibly my favorite: no cars at an intersection while I'm riding my bike. I love knowing I can keep going, that I don't need to stop. that the universe is (overtly and undeniably, even if momentarily) giving me the go-ahead, the green light, the message to continue.
green lights can be found everywhere, if you're looking for them.
hey, you just try to stop me now . . . can't be done, I'm on a roll.