Sometimes when life is complicated and daily living feels like a struggle, it’s easy to wish for a sign that you are on the right track. Something to reassure you. An absolute confirmation that things are going to be all right.
The other day when I was out shopping, I found it.
There it is! Right in front of Staples on Snowden River Parkway.
THIS IS YOUR SIGN
It caught my attention as I went into the store. I stopped on the way out to consider it from every angle. It was too big to fit in my purse or even my roomy reusable shopping bag. It might fit in the trunk of my car. Hmm…
We are all an extremely well-behaved lot if we can pass something that says “This is your sign” and not feel confident walking off with it. Or perhaps the general public is not as literal as I am.
Still, I did ponder it after I went home. If it really were my sign, what would I want to do with it?
Would I want to put it where I’d see it often, with words of affirmation?
Art by Scott Froschauer
Or would something more ambiguous be preferable? Sort of a “fortune cookie message” sign.
This one is brutally honest but could be extremely helpful, whether literally or metaphorically.
I fear the temptation to use a big sign to make editorial comments would too great for me.
Art by Trustocorp
We all probably have days where we’d enjoy telling off people and/or things via signs. I think I’ll keep those delicious moments inside my head instead of cluttering up the world with them. It could get out of hand rather quickly.
So what would you do if that really were your sign? How would you use it? What would it say? Would you pick one thing for all time or can you see changing it up to reflect a change in mood or to address current events?
I’m not sure what my sign would say. I think that, like many folks, I’m just out here looking for a sense of direction.
In the meantime, Staples is really serious about this sign thing. But their advert gave me a bit of a laugh. You might enjoy it, too.
Have a great Friday and let me know if you have any favorite signs.
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