I do my best thinking when I run... all three of you loyal readers know that by now. Well, OK... sometimes I do my thinking in the shower, too. Well, OK... a lot of my thoughts come to me in the shower. But I haven't had a shower yet tonight, so for the purposes of this post, I pondered the following while running...

Which is better? To live "in the now" or to constantly consider the future? If I choose to live "in the now" - for the moment - and take life as it comes, do I miss out on the excitement of anticipation? What about plans? Goals? If I don't keep my eyes on the horizon, am I lost? Am I able to have purpose without direction?

And if I choose to chase the future, do I lose opportunities to enjoy what today has to offer? Am I ever satisfied with my station in life or do I lose myself in the pursuit of the next goal? What if I'm unable to achieve what I've worked toward for so long?

My dad tells a story of two men who decided to have a contest to see which of them could walk the straightest line across a snowy field. They set out together and crossed the field, then looked back to see who had won. The first man's path was crooked and erratic; the second man's path was a perfectly straight line. Baffled, the first man cried out, "How did you walk such a straight line?! I watched my feet all the way across the field, taking care to align each step! I was sure my path was straight." The second man answered, "I just chose a fence post on the other side of the field, never took my eyes off it, and walked straight toward it."

The first man got so bogged down in details - in "the now" - that he couldn't keep his path straight. The second man couldn't enjoy the details - the intricacies of his footprint... a perfect snowflake... the wisps of his breath in the crisp air - or his path might have wavered. Me? I'm probably more "in the now" than I am a planner (you already knew that, right?)... so I'm like that first man, always focused on putting one foot in front of the other. But maybe I - maybe we - can learn from both men. On our journey across the snowy field, wouldn't it be nice to focus on what's truly important, keeping our paths straight in the process? And when something does catch our eye, couldn't we pause for just a moment and take in the details? Maybe we never reach that fence post in the distance... but our path remains straight and true while we're still able to stop and wonder at each of the particulars along the way. And if we do wander off course for a little while, our guidepost will always be there when we're ready to look up again.