I learned that you could never really tell what type of delays you would run into on your commute within the first two weeks of living in the Sunshine State. I learned to always give myself at least an extra hour just in case. That morning State Road 33 was still lined with a median of crabgrass and decorative palms just past the signal light that led you to I-4's on-ramp. There was a lot of space at the end of that median-enough space for someone to park their car there and leave their headlights on, blinding a driver who was trying to make a left turn and couldn't see what was coming up on the stretch of road that curved around the median before it was too late.
Mistakes, failures, and actions we come to regret because something "bad" happened are repairable like those two damaged cars. Just in a different way. There's not a set of precise part numbers to order, a tangible estimate of the cost and time that it will take for restoration or a set of insurance policies that will provide what's missing in the interim.
The only things that exist are reflection, resolve and each moment's opportunity to make a decision. We're not bound by what occurred before-in no way does it seal our fate. A choice is always waiting. Often small, hidden and unspoken to perhaps only ourselves, they're there. They contain a second chance, a renewal, and a reinvention.
The only thing missing is the moment where we realize that we're in the middle of viewing what we've been so desperately searching for. It's the moment where we become filled with a sense of thankfulness and contentment for another chance to breathe.