Much thought has been put into this next post, Quite a few pages have either literally or figuratively been thrown into the garbage can. And here I am in the wee hours not at all sure that this will not be the next draft that comes up lacking an indescribable something, and ends up crumpled with the trash. A glowing, tired lightbulb illuminates the scene as I attempt to shed some light on the subject:Where am I in the journey right now?
Sometimes I think the journey is a winding switchback trail carved into the mountain. That’s the “nothing is impossible with God” time. But that’s not right now. Sometimes the journey is a crossroads full of choices and uncertainty, and yes, that time is coming, but that’s not right now. Sometimes the journey is a somewhat safe (but never boring) city sidewalk filled with people from all walks of life each unique with different wants, but one basic need. Sometimes the journey isn’t reaching for the impossible; it’s a gentle day by day stretching. That’s where I am right now.
Am I living it out to my full potential? I don’t know. I’m trying, I’m growing, I don’t feel like I’m stuck in a rut. I suppose that counts for something. My life isn’t that exciting, but my followers list is growing, I’m up to ten now. Do I really have anything new to say? But (as goes the one phrase I’ll never forget from my one experience of a writer’s conference) “Most writers throughout history have said the same things, it’s just that they need to be said in new ways to reach a new generation because of the row, row, row your boat mentality: when we hear the words of the past often enough we nearly or entirely forget their meaning.” I’m sure that there are many who have walked this stretch of the treck, many have written of it, but my words are new. Maybe that makes a difference.
So, as walking partners come and go along my way perhaps these new words will show them the answer, where the Meeter of the need is, in a way that the old words never could. Maybe laughing with those who laugh and weeping with those who weep as they walk in and out of my life on a daily basis will teach me something the mountains never could. This whole post has an Ecclesiastes mentality doesn’t it? Nothing new under the sun, weeping, and laughing… Viscous thought and crumpled paper surround me, as if I’m striving for some invisible summit, but when I’m not off climbing mountains maybe it’s not the summit I should be striving for; just new words. Just new words.