Unknown Unknowns

"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."

William Jennings Bryan, American lawyer and politician (1860-1925)

"But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane In proving foresight may be vain; The best laid schemes 'o mice an men, Gang aft a-gley ; An lea'e us nought but grief an' pain; For promised joy."

Robert Burns, poem "To a Mouse," 1786.

Welcome back to When Pigs Fly! Hiatus lasted longer than I expected, but I should have known that joining the health care industry in March, 2009 would be something of a distraction. Understatement. I thought it would be so cool to be part of the "debate" at that time; however, watching my company's name and industry endure daily vilification within the national press, above the fold, soon lost its intrigue. No aspects of the matter will be examined, reviewed, dissected or otherwise construed here. It's not the right place, I'm not the right person.

Besides, the original charter of WPF was to give CRD a place to write something besides a business plan, new product proposition, or research analysis. For the brain exercise. The same reason my father still does crossword puzzles every day.

I note that only two posts were entered since I began this adventure with Humana. It would seem I didn't have the time (true), didn't have the inclination (true), and didn't have anything to say (maybe).

Like everything in my life, I had to make a choice about where to spend my time and talent. To opt for the laundry on Saturday instead of the blog. To sleep during the week after closing the laptop regularly at midnight instead of rising to fire the brain cells. To recognize that the continual firing of said brain cells on the job was sufficient mind massaging for anyone, including me, and acknowledging that no one was really out there waiting for word from me.

But, with a quirky combination of bang and whimper, 2010 has ended. It jolted me back to the idea that I could do something more abbreviated. That I could have the cake and eat it, too. That a compromise - perhaps a lowering of my own expectations is too harsh - could permit me to peacefully commingle my life with a blog thingy.

2010 was a year I had long anticipated. The planned lifestage events on the calendar came and went: Shannon graduated from the University of Nebraska - Lincoln on May 8, and Meredith graduated from Mountain Vista High School on May 20.

The unplanned events require much more than a paragraph - everything from "surviving" the first restructuring at Humana in response to "health care reform" that ultimately quadrupled my geographical assignment; to watching my 83-year-old father enter the hospital as a patient for the first time in his life. And, fight for that life. Through the Grace and Mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, he lived to tell that tale. And, not surprisingly, everyone is listening.

We begin each year that way. We have some things to do. We already know about them: birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, new jobs, new school terms. Sometimes we anticipate the birth of new life to our families, friends, and co-workers. Stuff like that.

We prepare. We have certainty. Our daily life choices - and the attendant consequences - are somewhat ordered about the expectation that these things will happen. According to the calendar. According to the plan.

But, what about the unplanned? The unseen? The unforeseen?

If we're honest, we have more of that each year than anything. The "what was I thinking" moments. The "how could I have been so stupid" thunderclaps. The "why do I keep doing that" whiplash. The "I am such a ditz" self-loathing.

We don't see everything coming. I have long contended that God doesn't let us see the future. As a whole, it would scare us into apoplexy; rivet us into stupor; cement our decision-making to the floor.

We weren't made to carry that burden.

What we are made to do is live each day by faith, taking everything as it comes. One thing after the other. Day, after day, after day.

Maybe I yet have nothing well-formed to say. The first day of a new year can do that to you. The day can feel heavy, mixed with an odd concoction of anticipation and fear. Fear about what those unplanned, unseen things in 2011 will be and whether everyone we love will come out on the other side.

I'm beginning the first day of the new year in Pasadena, California again. The only difference over time is that we finally wised-up and watch it on HGTV, without commercial interruption. The television does it no justice whatsoever. Having seen it live for so many years, I am both exceedingly spoiled and a parade snob. This regularity - honoring this tradition - is one of the ways I cope with uncertainty. Even that day a few years ago when the rain poured down on Pasadena like Armageddon and washed all the poppy seeds off the USC float and destroyed the hair AND make-up of the Song Girls wasn't enough to cancel the thing.

So, I count on the XXth Pasadena Tournament of Roses Parade to confirm that the calendar page turned again. Rain or shine. Mostly, shine. But, also rain. Buckets of rain, rivers of rain.

Oh, no. The Sierra Madre float broke down before the official parade starting line. Already being towed. I suppose all of you non-Californians are wondering how all those tow trucks just come out of nowhere when stuff breaks. Well, I'm not going to tell you. For the sake of the traditions, some things just should not be discussed....

But, that won't prevent me from making a few catty remarks. (Meow.)

We lived in Sierra Madre, but went to Arcadia High School. Seems like Arcadia has had a Princess on the Queen's float every year for three decades. I could be wrong. This year was no exception. Even with the programmed "diversity" of the court (sorry - that part is true), they still mostly look alike on parade day. Hair, make-up, crowns, matching dresses and creepy waves can do that. Sanitized and homogenized for our protection.

LOVED the teal dresses today. Probably my all-time favorite color. Probably because all us Dickersons look fabu in it. Something about that eastern European coloring of everyone except me; but, I have blue eyes, too - so, it works. LOVE teal. The perfect blend of God's two most perfect colors in nature - green and blue - an inspired hue.

But, these people standing on horses must go. I don't mean that in the "you go, girl" sense. I mean exit. Next left-hand turn off of Colorado Boulevard.

I mark the dates, mark the time. Honor the high days and holidays to the best of my ability. Never let my husband forget that he didn't have a stocking when we were first married by stringing an outrageous collection of them through the entire house. Remind my girls that the days they were born are only elipsed in my joy by the day I married their father.

Make the turkey stock at Thanksgiving. Plug in all the Christmas lights every night until New Years (and a few nights beyond, if necessary).

(Shout-out to Bruce Erley, colleague from Denver, and Up With People alum; who produced the parade opening segment today. Bruce, I want you to know that I actually set the alarm for 8:45 a.m. Mountain after too-little sleep, just to see Matt on top of the singer float. I owe you a phone call about the Denver Parade of Lights post-event analysis, Nielsen ratings, and demographic viewership results.)

Oops. No business stuff on When Pigs Fly.

Anyway, I don't know what I can do in weekly installments. But, I don't think I'm ready to commit to more than a weekly post, for whatever it might be worth to anyone. I'm not a paid professional, I'm not trying to change political opinions, and gifted Biblical scholars are already doing what I don't have a calling to do.

However, it seems that an often-overused verse would be in order here. On 1-1-11.

Naturally, Jeremith 29:11. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Since I don't know, I'm grateful that He knows. I will continue to try to make the best possible daily choices so that I am fit for whatever He knows.