Perspective

We are a busy family often rushing from here to there and back again. Nonetheless, I strive to keep things in perspective no matter how challenging the situation.

Alas, it does not always work.

Launceston has some hectic streets. Traffic lights and roadworks, and those turning across three lanes instead of correctly choosing the first two delivers a frenetic start to any morning.

And that is just the driving component. Added to the mix are unsuccessful attempts to wave at people walking to work or exercising, or being distracted after noticing that an acquaintance's house or business is for sale.

Of course, our hectic is not to the same extent as Hobart where traffic becomes gridlocked during school drop off and pick up, and then with after work traffic.

But it is busy all the same.

And, of course, our hectic is not even close to the freeways and tollways and main roads of Melbourne or Sydney.

But our commutes can be intense with those who can least afford to spend the most period in cars disproportionally impacted, compared to those who can continue to faux work making phone calls on handsfree yet far from distraction free devices.

What we can safely agree upon is that the time we are spending in motor vehicles is slowly, yet determinedly increasing.

I make my very best effort to be on time to appointments and meetings and outings.

A stickler for time, I fear lateness like others in our family dread spiders.

However, with more cars than we have ever had on our roads, the challenges associated with making it - to or getting - from does not always facilitate timeliness.

So, in response, people like me develop new routines and rules.

When in Hobart turning across Churchill Avenue must occur well before 8am.

The energetic morning traffic combined with parents stopping and dropping students.

There's a few school children on foot busily hurrying to embrace learning opportunities, coupled with late for work public servants cursing their bad luck and excusing their disorganisation because they will now miss discounted early bird valet multi-storey parking. It all adds to the frenzied nature of mornings.

Traversing Launceston an extra 10 minutes should be added to turn right onto Wellington Street off Paterson Street.

And, when joining the throngs making their way from the bustling residential mecca of Legana picking up Riverside and funnelling on to Paterson Bridge, before coming to a congested standstill stretching back from the traffic lights at West Tamar Road and Margaret Street.

It is like writing without punctuation. It leaves you just as breathless.

Music streaming apps and podcasts and the dulcet tones of familiar radio voices encourage you to draw breath and numb your brain while keeping concentration to avoid an embarrassing bumper on rear bumper on bumper on rear bumper on ...

Like a simple blessing, the new rules of travel can be thrown out during school holidays or a global pandemic when during COVID-19 families were locked down and cars remained parked.

Unfortunately, it has not taken long to reignite our urgency.

Busy times have returned like our desire to shake hands and greet friends and loved ones with a bodily interaction like a hug.

Late last week running late but just in front of the chaos to ensue, I waited at the lights on one of those hectic Launceston streets.

With traffic steadily ticking along it was still sluggish enough to take notice of the morning's comings and goings.

Passing a large inner-city church which often draws my attention with its signs that make little sense, there was a white hearse pulled to the side conveying a coffin for a funeral service to follow later that morning.

The scene that caught my eye included staff taking the utmost care cast against the continual flow of morning commuters.

There were stunning flowers and silk and silver bars in the back of the vehicle supporting the wooden casket and assisting with transfer to a trolley.

There was a flash of pause.

Just a couple of seconds or so to reflect yet enough time to be captured by the poignancy and to remain committed in that moment to see so much.

Sadly, perspective driven by sadness often dissipates as quickly as social distancing rules during a pandemic.

Why does it sometimes take a funeral for many of us to realise our good fortune?

Why does the hectic nature of our days change our mood and shape the way we interact or choose not to interact with others?

The emotions that emanate are at times as inconsistent as our behaviour which remains just as difficult to explain as it is to understand.

Sadness and grief and tragedy visit some more than others.

We do not ask for their call and we struggle to explain why they arrive uninvited and so terribly unwelcome.

The only good fortune: there is perspective to be gained and relied upon particularly when those pesky frustrating daily moments present all manner of worries and woes.

Life is hectic. Perspective is not.