Spam mail

Every week I find at least one mail in my inbox, telling me I am due to receive millions of pounds from a firm gone bankrupt in Africa or a solicitor wanting to share his fortune with me. Shift-delete is what I do but even as I press that key combination, I wonder-what if this were true? What if all I have to do is to reply an e-mail, or provide my telephone number and lo and behold, I am a millionaire!

What if the chances I throw, people I don’t look at twice, ideas I discard, emotions I reject, co-incidences I ignore-one of the things I shift-delete without a thought, had the power to change my life?

This is not to say that every mail must be answered, every idea chased but then, this is to say that there is no idea not worth chasing, no dream worth being dismissed as silly.

Every moment is a choice between discarding and retaining. Every decision is a choice between romance and cynicism. And the trouble is, that magical word-balance, on which I have so much faith, doesn’t fit in the context.

So I am willing to be knocked off-balance. I choose romance. Not to regret that which I missed by a whisker-there goes all I wanted, but to approach that which I see, with hope-this may have all that I have asked for, or at least some of it.

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