Life is like a mountain …
Imposing, massive, comprised of many layers and unable to vanquished …
But, a mountain, like life itself
can be traversed and by virtue of this…
Those secrets can be laid bare for those who would dare to make sense of them.
A stream is like life …
In that there is no easy way to ford it other than moving gingerly and using our lessons as stepping stones to save us from plunging into the swirling depths.
Reaching the other side is a reward in and of itself.
But like life … Time spent marveling ones ingenuity is time wasted.
Pressing ahead is a stark contrast to the expense of staying stationary with the
of being overcome by the
Life is motion and moving in constant, concerted motion shoukd be a given, as it always affords a better view.
I walked with deliberation, my steps were earnest.
I heard nothing, but the sounds of the Bay…
But, I was compelled to stop.
Strangely, there was no fanfare, no applause, no cheering section.
It was only me.
Who bore witness … To divine intervention.
I knelt …
Feeling the cold sand between my fingers as I wrote out my proclamation.
A declaration, a humble acknowledgement.
That receipt of a long elusive gift…
That I’ve longed for …
Ever since I could remember.
I claimed it…
I sat down, smiling contently.
As I pulled it into my orbit.
And still I walk, knowing … With my mind, eyes, heart and spirit open; ready to receive what has been mandated.
Let me hear you… Let the din and the incessant hum of what can’t and won’t be far away from my orbit…
And still I walk, knowing, dutifully searching. Standing on the pier of life, savoring the gift that I have been given.
Let your presence be all encompassing and omnipresent … Let it echo; reverberate and drown out anything that would dare to challenge it.
Let my footsteps be the white noise on my journey…
Knowing that as I reach the apex of the journey, the path that you have laid… That I will hear nothing … Other than my focus.
Let … Me; have the ecstasy, the sheer intoxication of completion…
And still I walk, knowing.
Looking out at the horizon… Wrestling with the gravity …
Of the beauty that my eyes are bearing witness to.
The rhymthic splashing of the water against the rocks is entrancing and takes me to another place altogether where words fail me.
Often… I’ve felt as if I was alone to sort out the conundrum that life saw fit to scatter at my feet.
But… Just when I was resigned to my fate and accepted solitude as my burden, I saw the manifestation of my faith in the distance.
And I took heart in the realization that I wasn’t alone.
Then… I lost the grace that I thought was in my grasp… Crestfallen.
I labored on.. Only to find that you were only leading me to the shores of my potential ripe … With the expectations and the blessings that you mandated me to reap.
You were my lighthouse.
Sometimes life makes me think of trees, in that when they are all grouped together we can’t make sense of them.
Sometimes they are imposing and indistinguishable from the others. Other times they lie in a path, serving as a impedement.
Sometimes seeing them closer, apart from the collective of the forest… that individuality and distinctiveness becomes blantantly obvious.
Being here… Surrounded… And implicitly understanding that where I stand is metaphor for life.
I trudge on…
In spite of obstacles arrayed in my path.
Knowing that a way will be made for me.
And… In return I receive peace and solace.