Right Turn

It is disconcerting how many of our small, ordinary actions conceal enterprises of great pitch and moment. Or, rather, it is disconcerting that so many of our complex, important deliberations find their summation in an act indiscernible from one arrived at through the die’s cast.
In turning right this morning, I merely signaled my intention, changed lanes, and altered my heading by 90 degrees. While it looked like only a simple right turn—indeed, I make those same maneuvers every weekday—it really meant I don’t have time for coffee. A morning spent desiring a Café Americano to beat back Somnus’ rearguard, a morning attempting to get showered and dressed with enough time to go 10 minutes out of my way (so I could use a gift card), and at the moment of the crucial turn, realizing that I would be late for work if I did so. A simple act, yet personally profound: I suspect these pregnant moments must occur around us with regularity, and I wonder whether our shared lives wouldn’t be richer for the knowing.