Wednesday, May 7, 2014

stepping, leaping, flying

Life is a very step by step process.  Sometimes I dislike process or wish it could be less involved, simpler, something.  I'm thinking of many things here.  I'm thinking of relationships and how I wish, sometimes, that they could progress more quickly.  I'm thinking of my broken kiln and the steps I have to take to repair it.  I'm thinking of my job.  I'm thinking of how I need to get from what I'm doing in life to what I want to be doing, from where I am to where I want to be.

It seems there isn't one path that a person must follow in life, but many.  In fact, it's more like a vast field with no paths, and each must cut their own.  I feel very bewildered as a traveler, holding my machete for cutting a path through the brush (ok, so, it's more brush than field.  field is too easy), not sure what direction the path should go.  And should it be straight, winding... will going towards this tree or that bush somehow effect my life in a drastic way that I don't want or do?  As I look frantically at the brush that seems so daunting and the large sharp blade in my hand I wonder how so many people before me have found paths to cut and have been happy with those choices.  I try and find people I know on the various paths they have made through the brush, hoping maybe we can cut a path together, but I mostly see faces unknown to me.  So much is unknown.  I sit on the ground, take my machete, and whittle away at a stick.  I rearrange rocks on the ground.  I think of my childhood partially spent in a village where I would sit on the ground playing with rocks and sticks and sand.  I'm still that same child, just a little older and now having to make her own path.  I don't know if I like this thing called growing up.  I grab my knees with my hands and rock for awhile, tears streaming down my face.

This is how I felt today.  So many unknowns, so many things that I'm just not satisfied with right now.  I need to continue my path, but I have a feeling it's about to make some interesting turns and I'm not sure I'm ready to cut those.  Sometimes I wish someone would come along, take my hand, and say, "This way!  Let's go this way!".

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I feel the same way, only I'm 20 years older. You'll figure it out because you're starting out in your "trying to figure it out" process sooner than I did.