Hesitation at the Street Light

Orange is not one of the choices. Somewhere between red and yellow I hesitate. Cautious yellow: both my friend and my nemesis. Crossing into the busy unknown conflicts with the feeling of getting there. It was green only a moment ago. Permission to move forward is unquestioned maybe assumed. Green comes with confidence, assuredness, about my right of way. Green feels good. Then, that yellow glows and interrupts the green like some harbinger of change and direction. It signals whether to move faster or to cool my jets because — because of red.

I time the beats of my ambition. It seems the more intensely I stare at the signals, the heat of my anxiety rises. Press on through or slow to stop? The decision to risk it is tied to trusting my instincts and just ride the orange. With the rush of momentum and the push of the pedal, down the road I go. To the next intersection, another decision, inspired by my green, plagued by my yellow, honoring my red.

Red. It outlines a personal boundary to wait at the crossing. It defines an okay to observe, chill, be ready. My red is my rest. Then, the restlessness is in my head is testing my stillness, tempting the opportunity to do something even if it’s a spaced moment; a pause on the hectic spirit. I just know as soon as I start to occupy that space, green will abruptly shine. Summoning, no, demanding action. Strongly motivated, my mind shifts to what’s ahead. I’m in the future and once again relinquish care for my journey.