On one of my computer screens I have a picture of a road that disappears into tuly fog.
It reminds me of traveling to the mountains. Sometimes, not very often, we became shrouded in tuly fog. It was thick and clearly dangerous for travelers. My father would slow down and dim the headlights that reflected back at us. Sometimes I thought we should turn off our lights and let the self-illuminated fog light our way. I was taught that we needed to be concerned with what we were going toward, but also what lay behind us as well. The rear red lights would tell others, “we are here.”
Traveling cautiously forward, we became quiet, the radio was turned off, our eyes widened and our ears listened as we concentrated and stared into…nothing.
It was a relief when the fog began to dissipate into wisps and eventually we could see our way again.
January feels like that to me sometimes. The year lays ahead and I anticipate it optimistically. I have a map, a plan, but sometimes…life happens.
No matter how I chart the future and envision the road and gaze into the distance, I cannot know what lies ahead. I nervously glance behind to see if I am alone or is someone careening toward me reminding me of where I’ve been.
I could pull over and watch others and sometimes I do. I acknowledge that I learn a ton watching how others do things. Eventually though I need to be brave and get back on the road. I am not satisfied being a spectator. The purpose of observing was to learn so I could do. Staying too long risks dependency on what others know and eventually depreciates me.
I could follow someone else closely or travel together and I have. Safety in numbers you know, but eventually they turn or stop or lag. I have enjoyed the companionship, but eventually I feel angry, frustrated and less than. I get lost.
The fog will clear. I will see where I need to go and I will see where I have been. A moment of reprieve and of relief. I feel safe to move ahead. The feeling is…light, a little unfamiliar and maybe even awkward, but the way is there, present and possible.
January. Resolutions. Hopes. Dreams. Expectations.
The fog will embrace me again. It always does.
I know it’s about the journey. I know I will doubt my decisions. I will doubt my intentions. I will doubt my abilities, but it won’t matter. I’ll get as far as I can today one step at a time because…
I really want to get there, wherever my there is.