Crossing the bridge
Life runs in cycles, at least mine does. Times when everything goes according to plan – or better than plan. One good thing leads to another, even better thing. People are happy and productive. Ideas flow and the energy to implement them gushes like a fountain.
It’s those times the song, “Walking on Sunshine” was written about. (Not that I would ever be caught dead humming along to something like that. Not me – no matter how happy I was. One must have standards. But I do stop and look around, appreciate the order of the universe – and marvel at the forces keeping chaos at bay.)
The cycle continues. Just because you are delirious with the status quo, doesn’t mean you can hit the pause button, or slow it all down. You can try to deny it, cling on. Have you convinced yourself you’re not Sisyphus – you know what you’re doing?
The fading light is beautiful, and there’s no way of knowing what might still turn up. What you might catch if you remain diligently vigilant. So there you are, sitting there – one fisherman all alone on the shore. This isn’t what you planned. But what do you do now?
The solitude is rather nice. But as the world fades away, you’re too alone. The world has taken on a strange, amber hue – the colour of danger, of warning. Rather than be afraid you adjust your vision, reassure yourself, keeping everything close to you just like it always has been, at least until recently. But you find you’re feeling blue. How long can you fool yourself?
It’s time to get up, pack up. Get moving. It’s time to cross the bridge. Find out what’s on the other side. It’s only a little bit scary.
Put one foot in front of the other. Don’t forget to breathe.