Tuesday, December 13, 2016
My shoulders first felt the tapping of the chilling winds, an arrival of my old friend, sneaking up one direction to reach across my back so that I might not notice. (I always fall for it. Always.) My cozy sweatshirt was no match for the coming winter whose icy breath brushed lightly as it ran down, down the valley of my spine.
But I welcomed my old friend – the surprise in the awakening like being roused from a dream. My dream was still there, in front of me. I had been quite content to perch myself on the ravines edge my chin propped by hands whose neighboring elbows were propped by my knees.
I don’t really know how long I sat, so overwhelmed at the first sight of my tree. The whole trail through the field I only saw the leafy crown. Now here it is. Right there. In front of me. And I could go no further.
I sat there looking at the tree – stunned with happiness, awed by its reality. So much so, I sat, my mind paralyzed with the nearness even though every muscle wanted to move my body closer. Run, run!
My mind however, needed to stop. I stood there, in the dark, watching the night breezes dance with its branches, then murmuring through the crowd of scrub oak in the ravine. The sight was mesmerizing in the sway of the branches and the mystery of why it intrigued me so. My path would be short now, down this bank, through the brush then up the other side to my waiting tree. No problem. So why did I not move? Why did I not rush to its side?
I looked back at the dark outline of the forest – now so distant, so far back. I knew I had been through it by the scars my legs bore, and I remembered the lessons of the path, but not as a recent memory. No, the forest part seemed long ago.
And the field – the surprise of the difficulties of the field part of my path, time spent sleeping, recovering, and learning a new way to walk. That part seemed a blur as often middles do. The middle of the path is both forgettable, uneventful and probably the most necessary. I could have turned back. I do not know really what causes ones brain to haul out all the options as if they were options at all. Of course not. It would make no sense to turn back. I stood still. At the first sight of my dream tree, I stood still. And I looked back.
When I passed the last tall grasses, the space of the ravine dipping below was a shock. Perhaps that was a bit of my indecision. I had thought by now I would be perched among its branches. But I wasn’t.
Perhaps I wondered at my ability to transverse yet another ground… Down a slope, through those oaks (which were anything but mighty and horribly misnamed. pfft. Oaks.), then up the slope of the other side. Perhaps it wise to stop. I had learned to caution myself, keep the bravado in check anytime my mind glossed over an obstacle with a ‘Pfft.’
I sat. For a long time, I sat there, feet stretching out over the edge, then back near my body. Testing and stretching, then coming back. My head revisited the trips and stumbles of the forest and my own tossing and turning within the grasses. I looked to the stars for answers, wondering to them how long have I wandered, waiting for them to whisper a replay of which I already knew. I just needed them to echo those memories to me. Once more, please, once more.
As soon as I saw the first ring of daylight upon the horizon, I stood up. Slowly I turned to look back once more. I turned my side to the slope, grabbed a rickety piece of tree root.
I stuck out my right foot over the ravine’s edge. My mind flashed – tossing the cards within my memory….. fright. And a memory of teaching myself to walk three years ago, in the snow, down the lane at home..
My left knee bent. With nothing to hang onto, my right foot landed safely..
The first sidestep. My step into the ravine. I slid my left to meet my right. Again. Right foot. Slide. Left foot to meet. My eyes could catch the last sight of the treetops of the forest. I grabbed my tree root, blew a kiss to the forest of lessons, thanked G-d for the path I had been given…
And I turned to the oaks and my tree. One last glance at the forest and the grasses.
With tears and a smile…
I ran…. in the most stumbly, uncoordinated manner… I ran down the slope…
With tears and a smile…
(and always a prayer or three)
Love and Abundant Blessings.
See you soon,
#thebrickdandelion #womenempoweringtheworld #windsparadox #thebeautifuljourney #fiftylessonsandcounting #imjustme