What slips through the cracks of consciousness, only to settle in slumber? Do you awake, freshly inspired? Or troubled and taut, like the frayed anchor rope of a small craft tossed about on a stormy grey sea of insecurity?
Each day begins anew. The sun rises, radiating through a plethora of celestial conditions. But it always ascends the sky, and so far as we know, it always has. Few things are as dependable. People are as changeable as clothing, though they might labor at maintaining a façade. I have lived with the same man for over twenty years, and just the other day remarked that I really didn’t know him at all. I believe this to be true. And it possesses beauty, this discovery. For to know there is more to explore allows me to relax into life; to trust in its changeability; to relish complexity.
Sameness does not only stifle, it leaves me shifting about, wondering when the other shoe will drop. To those who believe that comfort lies in predictability, I would offer that life by its very nature fails the test. It’s almost as if anything I set in place is temporary, from an expectation to physical roots. We live amidst the shifting sands of time, no more obvious than in today’s world. Perhaps in a bargain with the gods I’ve somehow agreed to roll physically with these changes, for wherever I seek solid ground soon glazes over like footprints in sand.
I am getting older but becoming, I hope, more flexible. My mind is freer and my acknowledgement of actuality more complete. I am still open to learning. Unlike my parents’ generation before me, I embrace the unknown for its own sake. Call it the thrill of the chase, but I’m pretty sure it’s simple acceptance. Theories abound – zero point; collapse of civilization; a new age; deconstruction; reconstruction. Whatever it is, Is. And I want to be part of creating whatever comes with my eyes and heart open.