Much to Think About

Yesterday left me with a lot to think about. There was a part of me that knew all along that coming here was going to lead to some kind of epiphany, that was the point of the trip. I knew there was a question I didn't know how to ask and for no reason I can reasonably explain I knew coming here would help me find that question. That sounds flakey as can be... but I guess if I was a real flake I would have left the question unasked and blamed my confusion on anything but myself.

I remain a little confused about how to write down what is in my head, but just because I don't have the words doesn't mean the thought isn't clear. I'm looking back on the course I have navigated so far. But this isn't about regrets and what-ifs. It's a matter of how I got here affects what course I try to plot next. I have the feeling of those 19th century ship-on-a-stormy-sea paintings burned into my mind. The analogy means something to me. Sometimes I feel like the wind has died and I am adrift on currents I can't contol. Sometimes I feel like the winds are blowing too hard and the sails are ripped. Sometimes I feel like the wind is blowing the wrong direction and all my energy is going into tacking against it. And right now I am in a port, the hold is empty, and while there is work to be had whatever I choose will take me to ports I don't know along courses I'm not sure I can navigate safely.

Seeing Suzanne was a great thing. There is a decade of regret tied up with her and while the what-if will never go away I'm finally sure about the right now. Although I'll never know what might have happened if I had done something different in 1992 I at least know now that that particular ship has definitely sailed. I can't put my finger on how she or I have really changed, yet the change is tangible.

So now I need to reflect on myself and what I really want to do next. I know I could live here now. Same with Toronto. And Toronto looks like it is going to happen. It's what I do when I get there.

Oringinal post: http://mbarrick.livejournal.com/132089.html