There is a place. Beyond the horizon. Just barely visible – especially if you close your eyes. Look at it there in the black, the pencil thin outline shaping a world which illuminates our inner most desires and our deepest fears. It is the land of the imaginary. Within its boundaries, inconceivable beauty blankets a land of sleeping giants. Time stands still. Every moment is perfect. With the rising of the sun, every droplet of dew captures the light and holds it precious. As the sun sets, it pulls the curtain over the landscape bringing with it an illusion of twinkle. Stars seem closer, brighter, clearer. The air is a crisp. The promise of another day, the hope that provokes, allows sleep to finally take over. And another day dawns, just as before, clarity permeating into our hearts.
That is where I am staring. Beyond the horizon. Past the arid landscape beneath its foothills. Past the endless bog that keeps me trapped. If I choose the wrong path, it will circulate me back to the beginning. I see this place, I can smell how close it is. I can almost touch it. Yet, for how well I know it, lightyears separate us.
We each have our own – both horizon and place of ‘reverence’ (or whatever you may call it). The time and location where we settle to get through the muck of our own perceived world. As Sinatra so perfectly stated, “that’s life”. If you know me or know about me, I struggle with my own self and my relationship with the world. Within that there are the everyday hardships that I put myself through in an effort to just get by. Just get by…
What if that isn’t good enough? What if I don’t want to just get by? What if I want to live? To crawl myself out of the bog and through the aridness to find what may lay on the other side? What if I can find beauty in the lands between here and there and leave the perfect world as a perfect thought? Can I do that? Can I breath in this landscape and exhale only love and admiration for what I am given?
Its difficult to remember that the end goal, that mountain peak or that horizon, is but only a small part of the picture. Beautiful it might be to picture ourselves there, it is drawing time and energy away from where I need to be right now. I want to be here and I want to be there. I want to do it all and see it all. I want to make the trek and reach the summit. And I am asking if that is at all possible?
It might be, but I have to be willing to move forward. Currently I am stuck where I am at, moving my feet but never gaining a step. Marching in place I crawl slowly, day by day, until something snaps and I can jump out of the hole that I just created. Energy drained from my jump, I am motionless again until the next time that I can resurface. I’m tired, but so is everybody. I’m nervous, but for no reason. I can’t shake the feeling that I will never be able to move again.
At this moment in time, as I sit here with a computer, alone and afraid, I’m trying to find the hope to make it through another sleepless night. I’m looking for a way to make it from here to across the horizon. Glancing far off to the jagged peaks and glaciers beyond the world in which I live, I am not sure if such a place exists for me. But maybe it does. Maybe the place that I am looking for I can find here – especially if I close my eyes and take a breath.
And I know this all sounds cliche. Of course we know and understand the concept of “the journey” rather than the destination. However, I find that in our society, we are driven by the goals rather than the process. I myself fall victim to that precise mentality and it circulates me though only to spit me back out again. The reason why I spew out cliches is because I need to hear them. I need to understand and put them in my own words. That is why I write. For me, for healing, for growth. In many ways, this is my small first step – one that I intend on making again and again as I learn to love the moment, rather than seek out a pedestal.
Be kind. Offer forgiveness. Share love. Breathe. Listen. And have an adventure.
More soon I hope.