Up on the watershed, standing at the fork in the road. You can stand there and agonize till your agony's your heaviest load. You'll never fly as the crow flies, get used to a country mile. When you're learning to face the path at your pace, every choice is worth your while.
Well there's always retrospect to light a clearer path. Every five years or so I look back on my life and I have a good laugh. You start at the top, go full circle round, catch a breeze, take a spill...but ending up where I started again makes me wanna stand still.
That's when I felt passionate enough about things to get out there and *do* something. I traveled to DC for a few protests, I worked Saturdays with Habitat for Humanity, I ran golf tournaments to raise money for charity. I started to realize that I could be *anything* I wanted. I was arrogant enough to think that was possible. I cried at meaningful songs, I tried backpacking on the Appalachain trail, I decided to get my PhD.
I look behind my ears for the green. Even my sweat smells clean. Glare off the white hurts my eyes. Gotta get out of bed, get a hammer and a nail, Learn how to use my hands...not just my head, I think myself into jail. Now I know a refuge never grows from a chin in a hand in a thoughtful pose. Gotta tend the earth if you want a rose.
My life is part of the global life. I'd found myself becoming more immobile when I'd think a little girl in the world can't do anything. A distant nation - my community. A street person - my responsibility. If I have a care in the world I have a gift to bring.
Of course I was full of worries and agony then, too. I had no prospects for marriage at the time, which I took to mean I'd be single forever. I was silly. I was immature. But I tell you what - if I could recreate that feeling in my pit of my stomach - that drive, that excitement, I would. It's like I'd just stepped outside for the first time in spring and caught the first whiff of blossoms. POSSIBILITY, coupled with determination to make the most of it.
I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains, I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain. There's more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line. The less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine.
Now why do we lose that self when we get older? Once we realize our own mortality, it's like we settle for wherever we are and lose that drive to *be*, to change. I'm not unhappy with my life - quite the opposite. I just don't have that feeling of possibility any more. Is that something only for the very young? Maybe it has to be that way. I don't want to go back in time, but I would love to find that Jen again and bring her along with me in the here and now. I need her inspiration.