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 should 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.
It is often thought that time only goes in one direction, but I have learned, begrudgingly. That time is multi-directional.
I liken time to a bridge that can be crossed in two distinct destinations; but like the bridge, time can be traversed in the same fashion.
Time, is a finite resource that we summarily either have too much of or too little of at different periods in our lives. The static nature of time is something that I have been acutely cognizant of over the past couple of years.
Sadly, I have squandered more time that I care to admit, but I have realized that if I am able to recycle the time that I have wasted into a form that I can use empower my son and possibly others, then time can also prove to be something truly redemptive.
Maybe it is because of the serial affairs that I have had with Mother Nature, walking the winding paths in search of what I have chosen not to see, mainly because of my fear of what the next steps will entail.
The road ahead
Sitting alongside rivers, streams and lakes throughout Maryland in my attempt to make sense of it all – has brought me closer to the confines of my faith – which I assumed had abandoned me, but it was me that had forsaken it.
Being content with letting the voice of solace drown out all of the background noise that passes as my life never fails to be redemptive.
Often, I wonder if this is clarity that I have inadvertently stumbled upon.
Fortunately, I am not naive enough to believe that clarity would come into my grasp this easily – or can it?
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Walking through these paths.
Looking for a sign…
Searching from what is hidden from view …
Only to find that it is in plain sight and all I hear are echoes of divine steps.
Standing here; still, unmoving, wondering. Is it that my faith is weak or is the fear of the unknown?
It is a not-so certain reality that I step out alone.
Perhaps it is my imagination …
But my memory is short of the times past that I’ve never been cast aside with nary a hand from divine intervention.
The air chills my lungs with each breath as I walk on … Knowing the answer.