Walk On..

How do you start the chronical of the “trip of your life?”

Here I am, in a place that I thought would be settled, somehow, asking questions out loud that have rolled around in my head since the time I was old enough to think.  Questions that are “scary” to many people in my life — but not to all!

I’m in my fourties, and have had what most people would say was a “typical” life.  Two parents (who stayed married but were anything but Ozzie and Harriet), two siblings (another trip into the Twilight Zone), a public school education, college, marriage, kids … and somehow I was taught to believe that life simply found a resting place and slid on into eternity someday. 

What a lie!

What I know now is that we are put on this earth to do much more than leave a carbon footprint.  We have somehow been lulled into the thought that everything’s gonna magically be alright, and that if we’re good enough, or follow the right rules, there’s a great pot of gold waiting just beyond the lines of life and death.  We’ve been waiting for the infomercial answer to it all, and in reality, that’s not what God ever intended.

OK, too much sarcasm for an initial post. I guess what I wanted to say here is that things are really never what they seem.  That this trip was meant to be lived and shared and savored with people we love and who love us.  That each days screams at us to live in the “presentality” of it all (a word I stole from a friend), and that we do disservice to anyone around us when we choose to do any less.

 Now, instead of cruising through what I thought life would be, I am seizing every freaking moment.  I am laughing more at the good things, and crying more at the injustice.  I am putting behind me the opinions of those I really don’t want to be like anyway, and focusing on those people that God has graciously given me to love — my children, my husband, my friends who are not afraid of my questions and my stupidity and my delving into the mystic side of life.  People who will walk the unknown with me.

I just heard a song (posed on the invisible children tour site: www.invisiblechildren.org) .  One line says something to the effect of: Squeeze all you can out of time, or it will squeeze you to death.  Not exact, but you get the picture.  That is my mantra — or, like Willie Wonka, “So much to do, so little time.”  I’m done screwing around.  I’m walking on.  

So, I guess that’s how you start writing the story.   

~ by lostgirlfound on February 16, 2007.