The possibilities are endless even though the probabilities are not.
I wake up in the morning with the promise and possibility of the day laid out before me. Anything can happen no matter what I’ve planned.
I open the back door to look at the trees and flowers. It’s possible that new flowers will open up. It’s possible that the sun will beam down and the breeze will be gentle.
(This being summer 2009 in Boston, it’s probable that it will be cloudy and rainy but….when I open that door – it is the possibility of sun, new flowers and a gentle breeze that I’m looking for.)
The phone rings. It’s possible that on the other end of the line the caller will say that:
- a proposal I’ve written is ready to go forward and just where can they send the first payment;
- a school wants me to lead a workshop;
- I’ve won a contest I’ve entered;
- my daughter, son, friend or other family member is calling to give me some great news from their world;
- one of the four people on my list of long-lost friends that I’m hoping will resurface has tracked me down…
(This being my phone, it’s probable that it’s another recorded message from the Boston Public Schools despite my trying to get off their phone list or it’s a telemarketer or that friend who sucks the air out of life with her complaints but…when I pick up the phone – I am only thinking about the possibilities. I have got to remember to look at caller ID before I pick up.)
I remember I bought a lottery ticket the other day because a dollar investment in return for a multi-million dollar prize just seems too good to pass up. As I turn to the lottery page in the paper or pull up the Mass Lottery website on the computer the possibility that I will win blooms in my head. For a moment or two, I am so certain I am going to be a winner, that I start going through my already prepared list of what I’m going to do with my winnings.
(It’s probable that – this being me – I will only have one or two #s correct and there’s no winning in that. Oh, well….)
I check my two email accounts. It’s possible that there will be an acceptance letter from the editor at that children’s publisher that yes, they have decided to accept my manuscript (or two manuscripts) and further more, they are wondering what else they might look at Oh, joy, who will I call to share this delicious news or will I keep it all to myself until the first galley is printed (having had a manuscript accepted but not published many years ago)?
(It’s probable that there will still not be a peep from that editor. Oh, well, no news is good news – right? Should I bug her to see if she got it? Calm down, sister, of course she received the manuscript – no email bounced back to me. Don’t want to piss the editor off by being too anxious.)
There are realms of possibilities as I go through my day:
- It’s possible that I will bound up the hills on my daily walk faster than I ever have before.
- It’s possible that I will find a dollar as I walk.
- It’s possible that the check will be in today’s mail.
- It’s possible that the library will call and say that the book I’ve been waiting on for weeks has arrived.
- It’s possible that a husband will surprise me with an unexpected gift or date or perhaps cook dinner.
- It’s possible that a long-owed debt will be repaid in full.
The possibilities are endless and delicious don’t you think?
(It’s probable that you do not.)