If I could sit on top of the hill and observe my actions without knowing, without attachment, what would I think? Would I understand? Would I judge? Would I sympathize? Is that your choice, or responsibility?
If I could observe my own navigation, would it be the long way around? Would it seem like I was exhausting myself cutting shortcuts through the brush and brambles, where, had I just stayed on the beaten path, I would have already arrived?
These are questions I ask because I found that this year I tackled things I thought I would have knocked out in no time, only to find, six months later, that I was still trying to beat a square peg into a round hole. I looked back along my path, the blood of time, lost, accenting struggles in the snow-covered landscape.
Is this enough? Is the fruitless exhaustion spent sufficient to bring wise discernment to the road ahead? Or will I relive the same twisted experience in which the names and places change, but are still all the same?
In my frustration, when I realized the same point in the trail, I turned to the side and ran hard, until I had no more air to breathe. There was no way the falling timber could find me this time, and I had a new outlook that I would be making better choices on things I could have an effect on, leaving behind the quicksand-like endeavors that would never allow me to escape.
I got some distance and thought I was in the clear, when the very tree I had cut finally came down upon me. I had never escaped. I only dreamed it was possible. I wonder where the benefit of hard education comes from. I could not get clear of the shockwave of the many bad investments.
Somewhere, I know there is a plan that says to cut my losses, but I remain tough, hoping to salvage my choice, which could pay off in the long run. But I am clinging to an I-Beam 80 floors up, and my grip is weakening. I really don't know how much longer I can hold on.
This is a little about a lot, or a lot about a little. Insignificant to say the least. A whiny little annoying story about trivial decisions, made incorrectly. I know there are real things out there, and that I need to keep in mind. Therein lies the key, perhaps. It could have really been there all along.
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