Not All Who Wander Are Lost
Ironically, my words find me walking the symbolic streets of my journey. Sometimes, not all who wander are lost…
Peacefulness of fervor. Confidence brings free will. Will the clarity show me an open road of new direction? The firefly leads the way as I try to find the corner of Where Self Respect meets Self Esteem. You see, I’m moving. And this is where my new house will be and my new address will be marked in ink, in stone, & chiseled and bound. Past Avenue has been trying to hold me back and I have been so easily distracted.
While I stop to wipe the coffee I have spilled on my skirt the rain decides to come and help me. With a snap and latch of my umbrella I continue up Nothing Can Hold Me Down Boulevard. It seems to be a little colder up here and I am wet from the condensed moisture in the air. The wind chill is brisk and I feel as though I have been walking forever.
As I peak out from behind the umbrella I see that somehow I have entered Consternation Alley. Now how did I get in here? Wet dogs are picking through yesterdays garbage and I can hear a distraught cat meowing in the distance. He must be stuck on a fire scape somewhere. It’s dark and I have to slow my pace. Should I double back? Or should I keep moving forward? The fear grips me and I am stuck.
I can’t give in to it. I have to get myself out of this dreary alley and out of the rain. I see a break in the buildings up ahead and I make the right turn. As I emerge from the darkness I find myself on Brush Yourself Off Again Bridge and the sun is out and the rain has ceased so I shake off my umbrella and tuck it away in my purse. The bridge lets me off at a fork in the road. I must choose now. Choose between Been Here Done That Canyon and Time For A Fresh Start Drive. I pass by the canyon with confidence knowing that I choose not to walk those winding roads again.
With a spring in my step and looking up to the sky I remember where I am headed and find myself smiling again. Heading West I proceed toward The Power Of Now Expressway.
Humming to myself, I look around at the people passing me by. I try to smile at them, to make eye contact, to say Happy New Year. But I can’t get their attention. I stop for a second to take this all in. I consider tapping someone on the shoulder to ask them if they see me. But instead I study the behavior patterns they all hold in common.
I take up stride with a couple walking toward the coffee shop. I mimic their movements and their gestures. I carry my shoulders the same way and my head follows suit. I find that we are looking at the ground. To my dismay I stop dead in my tracks. I lift my head and circling in place I realize that all of the people around me are also staring toward the ground, at their phones their so-called smart devices. Lost in manipulation, resisting eye contact and human connection. Missed opportunities and potential friendships. A tele-conditioned society of robots and there is nothing intelligent about this. Artificial misconceptions hypnotizing everyone into false hope and security. No wonder we are all going around in circles.
Our brisk walk takes us past all of the important stops we are supposed to make in our lives. Thoughts Become Things Circle, If You Leap The Net Will Appear Court, Home Is Where The Heart Is Gardens.
I keep walking praying that everyone will look up. That I will remember to always look up. As I raise my eyes skyward I see cobblestone up ahead. Where I grew up in New York there was a small street of cobblestone and I loved this little street. Could it be? I have to see this for myself…
Excited, I run through You Can Do It Meadow and skip along Memory Lane to the street of my proverbial past. The cobblestone is uneven and unpredictable but you can jump them like hopscotch. Some are cracked, and some are broken. Some are small and grey and others big and beige. They are all dirty with the passage of time. But if you look closely, some of them are perfect. They held their composure even through the worst of times.
There is one house on this cobblestone street and it’s as majestic as I remembered it. The white house with it’s red awnings and grand double doors. The hollow windows with ivory curtains and the over grown willows to protect it’s entry. The fragile mailbox and the grand lawn. The swing hanging from the oak that stands tall and ever seeing. I wipe the dust from the plaque to reveal the address. 24812 Answers Lie Within You Manor. I’m home. .
