I walk without trepidation.
I am flanked on either side by bull-rushes that have shot up tall over the railings during the summer. They are tired – it’s been a long season.
What lays on the other side of those rushes – who knows? I believe, though, in the harmony of the moment. It whispers a promise to me – of serenity, tranquility, and goodness. I listen carefully to capture every word – every second – every breath.
Fall is in the air. It invites me to inhale. It intoxicates me, paralyzes me, and inspires my imagination. I will soon walk on freshly fallen snow. I will soon hear the crunch beneath me. I am invited to dream of the future. I imagine a week, a month, a year into the future. I am bold – driven by the boldness of the moment.
Ahead, the path is clear. It is bright. If I continue I will walk into the sun and feel the warmth. I will be alive and my skin will warm. Just past the shadow, I will emerge into the light, lift up, and re-charge.
Just around the corner the scenery will reveal itself to me. I will be enlightened – questions answered.
I pause. Breathe. Exhale and hold my breathe from coming back in. Hold, hold… hold. There is a moment when life stops – in between breaths – when you realize you are about to become anew. The body is waiting – in the shadows – for the breath that lies just around the corner.