Parables in Paradise

I like parables almost as much as I like analogies. And I'm telling you I like analogies like pageant queens like tiaras. But back to parables.
Growing up I frequently heard 'there is a lid for every pot,' & I guess I subscribed to the premise. It is similar to the Hebraic concept of bashert, which states that there is a 'perfect-fitting' someone out there for every one. The reason they fit one & only one person is that we were once fused, subsequently divided, & then left to wander the earth searching for our missing, matching mate. Kind of a cross between match.com & Garanimals, I guess.
My experience was more like Huusker Dü, the old memory game where you remove 2 checkers from a board, revealing symbol pairs & try to remember where the matching pairs were. It was a little more hit or miss than bashert's certainty, & the instructions were in Swedish, not unlike Ikea kit furniture. How's that for an analogy!?
Lately I've grown very attached to a local version of a pot parable (non Marley related); 'Every pot must sit on it's own bottom.'  Though I'm trying not to take that too literally (I get off my bottom & swim a lot), I like to think I've found the balance & independence of mind implied in the island version.
I'm not ruling out a lid...just not squandering a lot of time trying to get one to fit. For now I'm fine as is, on my own (well you know) & letting off a lotta steam!

Happy

So I had an appointment that I expected to be quite somber this afternoon.  Instead I left the spot with a snappy tune in & a ridiculous grin on my oh so round head.
A friend was recently diagnosed with a serious medical problem, one that caused her to lose her voice (temporarily) & those who knew her to gain some worry furrows. After several postponements of our regular standing monthly appointment (while she was off-island for treatment), fear & anxiety were building their walls on the foundation of the unknown.
  Earlier this week I finally received the call setting firm the appointment & by the time I arrived at the designated spot today I was twitchy with uncertainty. After I've known her for 2 decades would she look/sound/feel in some sense different or diminished?
When she opened the door the music fairly bounced out the door. My friend is a diminutive person, even so I've always marveled at how unfailingly perfectly put together she is, with the final detail always a spiky pair of beautiful heels (despite the fact she works on her feet for hours at a stretch.) When the door opened this afternoon I expected flats & probably an outfit more suited to comfort than style.
She wore a perfectly cut red dress, her black apron & a gorgeous pair of strappy leather high heels.  Her voice is back, as is her smile. The only visible change is a narrow clear strip of bandage at the hollow of her neck. After the initial relief, I relaxed & only after 20 or so minutes had passed did I become aware of the song, the soundtrack to this surprise. It was Pharrell Williams' 'Happy,' from 'Despicable Me 2.'
My appointment was at 4:30 this afternoon.
She had been playing 'Happy' on continuous repeat since 9 this morning.
No one complained.