There’s a notion that good and not-so- good events evolve in threes. If two similar situations occur, a third completes the struggles or successes. After the triangle’s edges connect, feelings follow of relief or gratitude.
My search rushes to complete the triad in times of “not-sos.” After two events happen to friends in a span of three days, I sift through the August week to find that third leg.
Just sliding in a mishap does not close the gap. The solution will not satisfy if I try to manufacture something to set up a wobbly, far-fetched leg that completes the action.
Relenting to my morning run, the breeze focuses my breath. Under the curb at the sidewalk, a seagull spreads all its feathers. “It’s just sleeping,” my father used to say, to protect me.
Now the monarch butterflies zig and flip outside my window. Just out of the chrysalis, they dry their newly-found wings, my first side of the next triad to measure the day’s good.
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