What keeps coming up in my mind---sort of like a mantra but more like a persistent thought of some kind is this: It is the journey and not the destination that matters. How we travel in this world--how we make our way---how we go---defines us, frees us, restricts us---can clog us up or gives us wings. I am so "destination" fixated, that I really do so often forget that the "trip" begins....what?.......When we get in the car? When we've got our shoes on? Once the airline ticket is booked? After the first 100 miles? The day we were born?
I have had so many intense longings and dreams and wishes and hopes that my sweet Taylor was going to just jump right back on his bike after these several years of avoiding it. For SO long, his bike was the way he traveled in this world. People knew him (and still know him) by his bike sailing up and down Milledge Avenue---orange flag just a-wavin'. He was set free on that bike.
For now...for how long now??? Taylor has a new way of going. That means that I , too, have a new way of going---of moving---of traveling through these days.
I am doing my best to "lean into it" and let it be. Change is not a bad thing. He's on a journey. I'm on my own journey. Two paths. Two ways (at least two) of finding our way.
The destination is not clear exactly. What I'm seeing, though, is a road map that leads to a more expansive heart and hopefully to a place of kindness ----with success being redefined.
And, so we walk or ride electric scooters or hobble---our soles walking on kindness' soil.
My shoes are buckled. My feet are moving forward.
We're well into the midst of the journey.
