I was once told that one day can change everything. I couldn’t believe that.. unless a tragic or otherwise earth-shatering event were to happen.. for why else would everything change? Change takes time. Change takes dedication, consistency, stubbornness… passion! It couldn’t just happen…
And one morning I woke up, got into my car, pulled out of my driveway, crossed the causeway, and as I was turning the corner into my destination, I looked over my shoulder at the ocean… first thing I want to see in the morning, last thing at night… There, on a whispering mass of dark, a sharp cry was pouring over its blood, filling my imagination with the wildest images… and my restless soul with the longing… and it was back to the drawing board… again.. the call of the wild..
The day ran with me, and waves of faces splattered all over my composure, and mid-through I just had to go dip my feet into the cool and listen to the whisper. A rope was buried in the sand, a noose more like it. Brought to me by the deep, laying at my feet, like an ominous warning. The skies were rebelling and the wind picked up. And then it happened. The world stopped again. Prompted to turn, I felt the pull, as if the dead rope was wrapped tightly around me. I didn’t fight it, I couldn’t anyway. The whispers got louder and louder. I covered my ears… I walked slowly, the wind trying to stop me from getting closer… the heat melted my resistance and I fell… again… for the same trick .. in the same way..
The day fast forwarded through my anguish. And as I stretched my arms toward the high into the first pose, the skies opened again, and called to me. “Look for the silver lining”. I don’t know that I’ll ever find it, but it’s all in a day’s quest… and most times I’m not even trying. It just happens. And it all starts looking new and scary again… silver lining and all…
Nice.