Perspective in The Dead Zone

I'm finding it rather funny (not so much "hilarious" funny) that my life holds many parallels to a story about a vampire and a girl. Although I've not been in a relationship with a nocturnal creature who drinks blood, I've had plenty of situations suck the "life" or "passion" straight out of me. (And many which have resulted in quite the opposite as well... some of them the very same situation at a new stage.)

I've been engrossed in the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. (Thus, not so much blog writing of late.) I've found it funny to learn how many women my age are also gripping their 500pg volumes and not putting them down except to shower (perhaps.) Since I'm of the age where many passions are by the wayside while the kids, the hubby, the job, the house, the dog... all need cleaning, feeding, tending and attending, it doesn't really surprise me that this book series has turned into an obsession in the hands of my peers.

I've only read the first book and it's awakened in me parts that have been slowly dying. Over the years, (and most certainly the last one) senses have been dulled through pain and necessity.

While reading Bella's descriptions of Forks, WA, a town soaked in rain nearly 24/7, I'm reminded of how perspective plays a role in everything. When I was 16, I was taken (dragged is more appropriate) to Canada to go fishing. Dream vacation for a teenage girl, no? Lake of the Woods Ontario is beautiful, but not for a 16 year old girl who would rather die that hook a minnow through the eyes. I chose to hang on the doc reading and writing (and sulking a bit) until they'd fetch me for shore lunch. After lunch they would drop me back on the dock to sunbathe or, if it was nice, we'd waterski.

After a day or two, my family noticed my increasing enthusiasm about our choice in vacation spots. Bugs, worms, minnows, cold water and all, I was happy. There was another amenity at our "resort." He was a curly haired, sky blue-eyed 17 yr old who carried gas cans and cleaned fish (and gave me crap for my "participation" in the family vacation.)

Later that summer, my folks announced that they were going to go back north (the 12+ hours) for a little fishing trip. "Great! Can I go?" actually escaped my lips.

It poured (POURED) for the entire 4 days we were there. I smiled the whole way home.

Perspective.

I find that in my current "dead zone" moments that I've held a very "head down and into the wind" posture. I haven't been raising my eyes to see the details or the beauty therein. I haven't stopped enough to straighten my body and inhale what's available in the moment.

I've chosen to stop. To look. To drink in the details. So there's more life now. I can feel it already.

What perspectives are you missing? What's up? What passions are to be found when you drink in some life around you?