The Matter of a Car and Personal Evolution.

The most interesting thing that happened today was seeing an unfamiliar car with a familiar number plate. Why is that interesting, you might ask? Well, because the number plate told me who is associated with that car, but the nature of the car itself seemed quite inappropriate to what I thought was the nature of the person I assumed was driving it.

But it didn’t stop there. It never does with me because it raises a question in my mind, and my mind is the sort which has to formulate a theory or argument to address that question. (It’s a curse, I know, but that’s a different subject.) In this case it caused me to ponder the process of personal evolution. My reasoning went as follows:

We all evolve as we go through life, and that evolution is influenced to some extent by factors which are present in our environment, particularly our closest environment which is our home. And one of the major influences comes from the people with whom we share that environment. A process comes into play which we might call the dynamic of consensus, which is constantly questioning and suggesting adjustments to our attitudes, opinions, and general view of life.

It seems to me, therefore, that those of us who live alone have only ourselves as the primary reference point, whereas those who live with others – especially in a strong and intimate relationship like marriage – have other reference points interacting with their own. It’s reasonable to postulate that if we marry a certain person we will evolve differently than if we had married a different person. Such might very well explain the seeming incongruity between the car and the presumed driver, who is a married woman with children. She is probably a very different person now from the one I knew who was unattached. And I might be completely wrong, but I’ll settle with it until a better explanation comes along.

And since the person in question used to be the brightest star in my firmament, it explains why the spotting of the car was today’s most interesting occurrence.(I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that I hardly ever want to get up in the morning.)