Time...

[myrddin_emrys]

My Father is a perfectionist, always has been, and he taught me about the world. Well, at least his version of it, and one of the things he always told me when life would get me down or I had a major disaster is a simple phrase. “A hundred years from now, no one will know the difference anyway”. I guess it was his way of letting me know that no matter how traumatic the events going on in my life were, it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Recently, I have been thinking of this phrase and I hope it will get me through this event. On a side note, you can use “there are two billion people in China right now that don’t care what type of day you are having” I have been there several times and can tell you that is a correct assessment of things. I guess the point of this is, well just that, points. We travel from point to point in time; each decision leads us to others that unfold the road map of our path in life. They say, it’s never to late to change your path. Sometimes it’s not a choice. Inadvertently, it looks like I have been forced on to one of the many off ramps in life. Now, I am in a strange place, with too many one way streets just trying to find my way back to that familiar four lane highway, where things flow smooth and fast. You can always get to where you want to be, once your back on that road. I will stop and ask directions from time to time, I have never been able to remember several consecutive sets of directions at one time anyway, and these directions you can’t seem to write down. I will keep asking, hoping to find my way. I don’t want to find my way back to where I was, where I have been already. Maybe I should parallel the main road for a bit before I try to jump back on. Change things up a bit, maybe shake a few of the demons that have been following me. Either way, I know I am traveling in the right general direction now; at least that is what people are telling me. I will have to take their word ‘till I can at least see the main road again. You know that feeling, you’re weaving around slow curves, on a narrow road with thick trees on either side. Then, a small break in the tree line comes up and you see the main road running beside you. You see the others buzzing along the road, oblivious to you or your envy of them, but it gives you hope. Hope is sometimes your only motivation but that’s another topic. Not too much time left for this year, let’s get it over with.
I look forward to seeing my new friends again one last time this year. (and I need to see them bad)
Nite all...

"I am the furthest man from home"