Walking the path
A friend posted this Chinese proverb on Twitter today: “I dreamed a thousand paths; I woke and walked my own.”
And I have been dreaming a lot about paths. If I do this, then … ? when I do this, what? … what about? … what if I hadn't? … why didn't I? … should I/shouldn't I?
I simmer and simmer, and go back and forth.
I replay steps, I wonder and wander.
I dream of leaping.
I dream of leaping now instead of later, even though I know I need to wait a while longer.
I do my best in given circumstances, but sometimes I wind up looking at the result thinking: nope, you should have done this or that.
I had one of those experiences this week. I should have known better (I did know better), but I made the choice. And there I go, learning the same lesson again for the third (or is it the fourth ... or fifth?) time.
And so I plod along, going bit by bit.
I make mistakes and I try to forgive myself.
Most of the time I can.
I see the work I do impacting other people and I practically squeal with delight.
I say “thank you/more please” several times a day; it’s so easy cause there’s so much.
Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky that the path unfolds so lusciously in spite of all my fuck-ups and missteps. I can still get cranky and stuck in the muck, but then I’ll look out the kitchen window as the hubster makes coffee – the birds are dancing around the bird-feeder with the backyard still gray, but starting to show signs of the impending spring – and I think: I’m the luckiest girl ever.
Life is far from perfect. I fuck up, I fall down, I do things that aren't always good for me.
But I keep writing; I keep walking; the path is mine; I’m on the right road.
How 'bout you? How are things on your path?
