Musings from a little while ago...
She stands at a market stall, peering over the items. Her eye catches on all the pretty things - a necklace here, a purse there, a skirt on the wall. But the path that grips her feet keeps moving on, and the journey takes her forward, along the road of time.
She has a vague notion of what lies ahead, events that demand her attention and preparation. And when the time comes, she’ll be ready, but for now, another market stall, a meander through the park.
Some time ago, she planned for the path to take a detour, to see great things. And as the moment approached, she prepared. The path crossed those of companions on that journey. They contemplated what the journey would be, imagined what they would need, what they would say, what it would be like. They were ready, too ready and eager for the opportunity to arrive. And the moment approached and passed, and nothing could have prepared them for the great things they saw. But great things are often great because they are new, because they are different, because as much as you prepare, they still pose a challenge, an adventure.
The events that had lain ahead have now passed. Sure, she was ready; everything fell into place as planned. But she looks back and realizes that it caught her off guard. Another market stall, a meander through the park, and now everything is different. Her feet are entrenched in the path, which moves along at a steady pace, never yielding, never speeding up. The events that once lay ahead have now passed; she has crossed to the other side of the bridge and everything is different. Another market stall, a meander through the park, but the qualities of the air have changed. The sky is a different colour, the grass a different green.
She twists back to see what has passed, as though she never saw it the first time around. She sees in her mind’s eye the people who journeyed beside her, the things and places that made the journey great, the moments of such peace that they are worth re-living in the imagination. She takes a moment to close her eyes and pay no heed to all that continues to pass her by. Another market stall here, a meander through the park - these are new moments, but at this time, her heart is in the past.
Ahead, there are more doorways, more detours, more diversions. They loom before her as unknowns, some hidden in the cracks waiting to catch her unawares, some as mysterious voids waiting to be discovered on the next adventure, some all too familiar demanding attention and offering nothing new. She knows not where to place her heart, to guard it, to stand in wait of adventure and yet enjoy the moment at hand. How does she prepare?