I don’t often dwell on the past. Perhaps it means I have been successful, to a degree, of incorporating the honimyo spirit into my psyche. Perhaps it is because simply that no one likes to revisit a nightmare.
To speak metaphorically, it is as if I was forced to cross all twelve lanes of a Los Angeles freeway. The price of my survival was to be transformed from a magical gazelle into a dusty banged-up turtle. My chances of survivial were slim. But I did. I have been making my turtlish way through life since. Most times I do not think of how far I wish to go versus how fast I can travel. Or how often I am forced to just stop. There are times though, I raise my eyes up and blink through the dust, and realize that it isn’t just a patch of iffy weather stirring up the earth. It is the herd of gazelles and all other long-legged creatures passing me by.
I know then, that they will probably reach those purple mountains in the distance, and perhaps even decide that they wish to go on somewhere else. I am reminded then, that I may never get there. My terrain today is greener and softer than in previous times. I have the company of the occasional butterfly and bird. I do not struggle so for every step. I treasure the beauty when I find it. I savor those moments deeply and passionately.
I get it though. My journey is NOT to be the one I wished for. It is going to be the one that it is. I do not have the simple luxury of ordinary choices. I have lived the sonnet:
|When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,|
|I all alone beweep my outcast state|
|And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries|
|And look upon myself and curse my fate|
The challenge is to remember that it is not the glass half full vs. the glass half empty. The simple truth of my life is that I still have the glass.