Maybes: at the crossroad of no and yes. Mislabeled as indecision.

But really the maybe--when used right--is a coy invitation to synchronicity to do what it will.  Maybe you will go out for drinks with friends at the end of the day, or maybe you will do yoga, or maybe you will go home, disappear into a hot bubble bath with nothing but a jazz record, a book, and a finger of whiskey to keep you company.  You just don't know which way your maybe will pull you.

It is the thrill of possibility, an unplanned adventure ready to unfold if only you don't quite commit to any other plans just yet. It is the last minute decision to turn left instead of continuing to drive straight ahead in the hopes of catching the bookstore before it closes.  This maybe invites the day to lead you where it will.

Maybe.  It is the sweet pleasure of being gently pulled in one direction, then another over unimportant decisions: perhaps you will get these antique tea cups or maybe these small ceramic plates.  It is the potential of a moment, the split second where you can imagine where your life might go.

It is the safety net, this maybe--safer than a clean no, more relieving than a grudging yes.  It hides a multitude of sins and births others.  Maybe stretches the gap between what might have happened and what could happen. 

Maybe.  It is our verbal trickster, stirring up life around us and making us hungry for something new.