rocks and hard places

Looking out over the vista, grateful for the gifts of memory and review, I found myself excited to move forward, when the time was right. Not long after that post, there was a phone call, some earnest questions, the beginnings of some new life phases, and when I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see a pile of rocks and boulders in front of me. "Yep," I thought, "after that rest, it's time to climb. Thanks for the prep!" and up I scrambled.

First I picked my way around, hopping over the smaller rocks, and looking for footholds and handholds to make my way higher. Then I scrambled up the sloping rocks, and the boulders with flat spots, wondering just how high I would ultimately have to climb. Without warning, I've found myself in a crevice, and (having ignored some sage advice: "And when you want to go explore / The number you should have is 4) without a hand or a rope to pull me out.

It's given me time to think. (No need to panic. I'll find my way out; I'm sure of it.) What I realized is that despite how far I've come, something has not changed. Once again, the first thing I did was decide what I needed to do. In and of itself, this is not entirely bad. However, when courses of action are not even considered--let alone tossed aside as infeasible--things may not turn out as intended. I'm pretty sure, now that I'm heading on toward frustrated, that there were other very reasonable options.

It's entirely possible that I was supposed to choose a rock to carry, or that I was to move some of the rocks out of the way. It's also quite possible that I was looking at a rock waiting to be chiseled and molded into something else, some beautiful figure that only my eyes could have seen under the smooth, round surface. Or that someone else may have been stuck in the rocks, and I should have listened for their cries for help.

It's possible I was being invited to sit and watch more of the view developing.

I need to work on moving past my dependence on myself and myself alone. I thought I had. I forgot that moving forward does not mean forgetting what was behind; leaving missteps off the map. The good is in the journey. I have always believed that, but have often, in my full-steam ahead, missed the forest for the trees.

To dig or to jump or to wait. Something to think about.