Anchored Beauty

I guess it goes without saying that we’re a product of our pasts, and that we take those experiences with us to whatever comes next.  What’s not so obvious is that it’s okay to change course, suddenly.

Then again, nothing really ever happens suddenly, but when we have years of momentum behind us, shifting course just a little can feel sudden, like tossing an anchor with engines at full throttle.  First you drag the anchor and soon you come to a halt.

I think I was dragging for some time, but now I’m stopped.  I’ve been looking around, seeing just how much there is to take in when there’s a view in every direction.  So much to aspire to, so much to observe, so much to avoid.

I do have one path I can’t stop just now, one that might lead to some fairly rough waters.  I’m not so sure I’ll succeed.  But I don’t think I can go back to where I was.  And even if there are a hundred right things to do at that point, I’m not so sure they’d be in my course.  I don’t know that I’d want to take steps back even if it meant a better way to move onward.

As for now, I guess I’ve realized that when you’re stuck, you kind of have two choices: you can either sit still and wait, or you can look around and enjoy the ephemeral beauty.  When you’re moving there are a lot of things you just can’t appreciate…but when you stand still you have the time to see them differently.

There’s a lot I want from the next year.  I know that pretty soon I’ll have to move quickly.  I’m not looking forward to all the mistakes.  But for now I have very little to really speak of in the big picture, except that it feels great to connect with someone on the dance floor, to take an hour to make it through a plate of sushi, to run along the shore as the sun goes down.

No matter what happens in this very big year ahead, I’ll have tried something very different, something that fits me so much better.


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