Sometimes inspiration comes from places you least expect it.

I have a cyber friend named Tom. We’ve been email buddies for years, mostly exchanging jokes but occasionally passing a quick line to update the other on our activities. Tom and I have never met. We once attempted to put a face with a name but as fate would have it, our paths failed to connect. At least not physically. I still consider Tom one of my best friends. A kind soul with a good heart and a zest for life.

On the downside, because of Tom, I’m an addict. He’s introduced me to something I can’t resist. It’s too powerful, consuming my days . . . and my nights. I’m helpless, an unwitting victim of the drug called “Words With Friends”. Someday I’ll make up my mind to beat it, but I’m not ready for recovery yet. Not til I win a few more games.

Tom and I  recently had a text conversation where I admitted DH and I might end up staying in North Carolina. Or more probably closer to the coast in South Carolina since that state is kinder to retirees and offers lower property taxes. Now this would be of little consequence if it were not for the fact that Tom and his family are living my dream in Arizona. Just saying the name makes me sigh with contentment. Arizona. Arizona. Arizona. Ah, did you feel that? A Zen moment.

I lived there during another life (ten+  years ago) and promised myself I would die there. My children know the box canyon where they are to scatter my ashes, although at the rate of recent construction, my ashes will probably fall into someone’s backyard. Still, the memories call like a Pied Piper, reminding me that I once resided in God’s country.

So as I was bemoaning my fate, Tom uttered those four little words that completely altered my perspective. “Bloom where you’re planted.”

How many of us go through life living in the future world of “someday when” instead of embracing the here and now? How many are so fixated on a plan or goal that they fail to recognize it’s outdated? The only way to survive with any sense of enjoyment is to be flexible. To bend in the wind. Or as the lyrics go in that wonderful song, The Gambler, by Kenny Rogers, “know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run.”

So starting today, I’m going to sit in the sun, water my roots, and bloom where I’m planted . . . no matter where that turns out to be.