This begins the next phase of my forward motion. I find myself, though one rarely at a loss for words, poised in mid-type. Perhaps it is my desire to savor this moment, the tightening of the boot straps and the last gulp of water, before setting off down this way. On a highly transitional part of my ___________ (fill in the blank with the word of your choice – trek, journey, quest, sojourn), I tripped over a fairly substantial rock. Grace would have it, though, that rather than level me, it turned me abruptly, so I looked head on at a view I had only kept in my peripheral for some time. My story. Right there, all along. Jotted in journals and e-mails. Scratched on scrap pieces of paper. Spoken in anecdotes to people I’d met along the way. The idea of sharing this story, the past, present and what will come, was not new. I had thought of it and been encouraged to do it before. I had never come directly upon this arrow, though, that told me clearly this was the path. Then I moped one day, wrote a note and posted it on Facebook and decided it was time for me to write my blog. That note (On rocking on my porch swing with over 650 people on my lap) is listed under The Trailhead, as it is the one that set me off to here, to figure my way along, with you by my side.
I come with the truth of me. I hope you will feel that. We live in a world that proclaims that we should be real, but then incessantly whispers what our real is to be, right down to the brand name underwear. In relationships, honesty and open communication are deemed critical, as long as one doesn’t text respond too soon (I’m told hours later is best) or say that he or she likes someone, even when both partners already know it. Image is our burden. And I guess that is why a person like me, most likely to come bearing gifts, has a bit of discomfort in this world. I’d rather put it all out there than gain the result of strategic maneuvers. So I find this a forum of comfort for me. A place where the character you’ll meet is the one who is actually navigating her way through my day. Those who return here won’t likely come seeking superior intellectualism, advice or a taste of cultural expectations. I believe you will come to experience my stumblings, my joys, my questions and possible answers. You will come to laugh with me or at me. I’m okay with either. Some of the stuff is just simply worth laughing at. I doubt you will always agree with me and want that to actually be a part of our connection, to discover another side (respectfully) sometimes, just to hear it out.
I tuck the compass away. I won’t be able to use it here. I need to surrender the desire to understand the course before me – on this path.