It's a

quarter `til midnight on Thursday evening and I got my

fourth or fifth second wind of the day a few minutes ago.

Not a good

time of the day to get a second wind. But here I am at

the keyboard attempting to make the most of it.

I'm sure

you've occasionally found yourself wondering what makes

folks tick. Ever wondered why you do what you do, when

you do it, the way you do it?

Not too

frequently, huh? I don't like to go there either. Not

often anyway.

For

instance, some folks seem driven while others appear to

be called. Some are gifted while others have to study and

train hard to learn what they learn and be able to do

what they do. Surely you've watched how some folks fly

through life while others flutter, and still others just

hover. Then there are those who skip merrily along while

others trudge wearily to make every step.

I enjoy

meeting people (every now and then - I couldn't stand too

many at one time) who are always organized and who can so

easily finish one project before going on to another. I

have no such blood in my veins. I like having three, four

or five things going on at one time. In fact, I seldom

just watch television. I want to read the paper or a

magazine, or draw, or write, or fiddle, or something,

while I'm in front of the tube.

I've

scratched out a couple of half way decent poems at red

lights. Don't panic, I do resist the urge to take a pen

in hand while driving a moving vehicle. But I'm

constantly switching radio stations. I flip back and

forth all the time among WSB, WPCH, GPR/NPR, JOY, and

WKHX. Commercials are wasted on me.

When I

manage to get control of the TV remote I do the same

thing. I drive Daniel up a wall with the constant

flitting. I drive myself bananas if I just sit, or try to

do one thing at a time. You guessed it. He's by far the

more organized one of us. At least it appears that way.

But his

kind have their problems too. I mean, he cannot find

anything in the fridge. And never say to him, "It's

on the top shelf of the closet" or "in the

second drawer of the chest..." He will want to know

what part of the shelf the item occupies and exactly

where in the drawer it lies. Really. I bet you know

somebody like that, too.

Now, I ask

you, who's more dysfunctional? Him or me? Or, could it be

that we all have our own niches to fill and voids to cope

with, our own special abilities to use and enjoy and our

own disabilities with which to contend.

Aha... I

just realized where all this may be coming from. Usually

there is some little something that happens to trigger

this kind of self-searching.

In this

case, it was a young man I encountered at OfficeMax

earlier this week. I eavesdrop quite often. Any

opportunity I get, in fact. Rude? I don't think so. Not

for me. It's just an insatiable curiosity about people.

Anyway, the young man had been working on a project when

he stopped to offer to help a customer (yep, it still

happens!).

Then he

paused at the new copy-and-print center in the back of

the store to ask a young woman about something else which

led to a brief conversation which ended with her telling

him how important it is to finish one thing before you

let yourself get pulled away to something else. (She and

Daniel would get along well).

And I stood

there, receiving great service myself, by the way -

I love that new addition at the Fayetteville store -

see what I mean, even now I can't stay focused the way a

normal person defines focused. Anyway, I stood there

thinking to myself that he can't help it. He's who he is

and he'll do okay. I wanted to tell him so, but why spoil

the fun? Let him have his own moments of wondering what

makes him tick.

John Newton

said it well:

I am not

what I ought to be, I am not what I want to be, I am not

what I hope to be in another world, but, still, I am not

what I once used to be, and by the grace of God I am what

I am.