Changing the Channel

My mother in law has often told me of how once when she was younger, she was sitting in church feeling very sorry for herself. She was lost in thought and could feel the tears starting to brim in her eyes when an older lady tapped her on the shoulder, leaned forward and whispered, "Change the channel in your head."

I spent most of yesterday trying to change the channel in my head, but it felt as though no matter what I did, the same program was showing on every station. By evening, I fled the house in an attempt to run it off.

It was a pathetic attempt. My breathing kept transforming into sobs, my face kept crumpling without warning, and my body felt leaden. I couldn't run far or fast enough to escape myself.

I was two miles from home, berating my looks, my lack of speed, my everything, when a storm that had been advancing from the distance suddenly didn't look so distant. The rain was falling like a curtain- I could see it sweeping across the desert, kicking up dust as it went. I decided I needed to turn around and high-tail it for home.

I was hit first by the wind. It carried the scent of red dirt, hot pavement and creosote, and rushed in from the east like a solid wall. Next, I could hear the rain advancing. It drummed on the tin roof of a barn across the street, then flattened the tall grass in the field opposite me, then swallowed me in heavy, sideways sheets. In mere moments, the dirt road became a minor riverbed. Lighting was flashing, trees were bending, and I was struggling to see in the torrential downpour.

One mile from home, I was completely soaked and splattered with mud. I was running in odd gullies, trying to avoid lowest ground {hello flood waters} and not wanting to be the tallest thing around, but also not wanting to run among the trees, which were the tallest things around.

"It would serve me right to be struck by lighting," I thought to myself, then started laughing.

I laughed and gasped and struggled the whole way home, where I found the door open and towels laid out in anticipation of my return.

I don't know how that rainstorm changed the channel in my head, but it did. I still feel frustrated with my weight and my slow running pace and my lack of sleep, but it's no longer the only thing occupying my thoughts.

Now I think about not being struck by lighting. :)

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