Winter Cold Moon
How often do we get chances to start over? I guess no more than a couple of times a day. I know, sounds like too little, eh? Maybe you’re right. Let’s go with, oh say, infinite chances. Why? Because each moment brings a choice, paths that you can take from that place to a next one. And, each time you have a choice, you can choose. Differently.
Now you’ll probably say that the baggage carrying you to this moment isn’t amenable to being sloughed off, ignored, put in the past. You’re right. Even on a new path you carry the backpack filled with prior choices. Such a load can be heavy, weighing you down, making forward or sideways or diagonal movements seem sluggish or downright impossible. Or, you can choose to set the backpack down. Just leave it. It won’t matter. All that’s in it is from yesterday or further away in time. Its content will stay there and if you need something, go back and pick it up. After all, it’s your baggage. So, recommendation here: left luggage for your weight.
All right. Now that you’ve made a new choice, gone down a different path, jettisoned the constraints you imagined held you back, get on with it. Afraid? That’s ok. Fear is a clue. You’re alive. The way ahead is uncertain. But, think about it. The way ahead is always uncertain. If fact, we all have to realize that there may be no way ahead. The next moment may find us in the grave. So, given the choice between the grave and doing something you fear–which means you are still alive–you can choose to be, if not brave, at least rugged.
And guess what? Once you’ve gone ahead and made that speech, gone for that interview, told that person how you really feel, jumped off the high board, walked into that first class, settled in your seat for the flight to Nepal, you’re ready for your next choice. And the one after that. And the one after that. You’re free to choose the rest of your life. May as well.
