Here I am. I’ve found myself at another fork in the road, where I must make a pivotal decision. It’s not the first time life has brought me to a crossroads and certainly won’t be the last. The interesting thing about coming to these points is that I must stop in my tracks, not only deciding which way I’m heading but also presenting me with the often sobering experience of noticing where I currently find myself.
The crossroad has forced me again to lift my narrow gaze from the short-term gain of each step to the infinitely long path ahead. I’ve come to places like this again and again. It seems that I must do so to remember to look up and think “where am I? Is this where I want to be?”
At this specific intersection, I have found myself in this murky, desolate, polluted, disconnected, deification-filled wasteland that no amount of toilet paper can save me from. This is quite the unrelenting experience because all of the stories I was telling myself to continue walking the path kept me from seeing that I had diverged from the one I initially set out on. I’ve been forcing myself to walk through this demanding terrain picking up food and supplies along the way to carry with me in fear that there may be nothing ahead to sustain me. I’m carrying two unwieldly packs full of my past experiences and trauma, anger, guilt, greed, grief, unmet expectations, and trepidation. I’m disembodied and disconnected from my destination. Where am I even headed and why did I embark on this journey to begin with? I’m fatigued with little hope of trekking much further.
Nonetheless, as I am humbly awoken from this self-imposed delusion that I was getting somewhere, there’s something deep inside of me that is propelling me forward. I stand at this juncture entangled in the patterns I have cultivated that are pulling me towards the path at my right which, as I glance down, it looks indistinguishable from the landscape I currently find myself in. Although dark, bleak and futile in its appearance, it’s a path I know well at this point. A route that I have become deceptively comfortable with through my disassociation from its undeniable misery.
As I continue to look down this path, I begin to feel that I have been at this exact intersection before. My surroundings become more recognizable as I stand in stillness. I am faced with all too familiar visions of what the future of my journey looks like If I choose to proceed down the right-side path. Seeing the environment becoming less abundant as I walk, the terrain becoming more dreadful and demanding in progression, and worst of all my mind looping the same experiences until I’m brought back to this fork in the road once again. This is the same path that I’ve chosen maybe a dozen, 50, 100, 1,000 times? at this point in my journey, which has continually circled me back to this place.
I turn my gaze to the path at my left. There’s a steep and massive mountain within my vista that looks impossible to climb with the amount of energy I have left. That place deep inside of me is whispering that there’s peace on the other side of that precipice. If I choose this path I must unload all my baggage and walk in solitude. This doesn’t guarantee my successful summit and descent to the suspected peace that lies further down the path. I experience a sense of unease due to the congenital knowing that I must choose this path at some point. My awakening to this part of me that is insisting that I change course is in contention with the part that wants to continue down the familiar path.
I stand frozen at the crossroads. I begin to contemplate why I’m on this journey. What’s the point? What was the intention for initially setting out on this path? What were the promises of walking? What is it inside me that wants to expand my horizons? Maybe this is the reason I’m on this path. To connect with that which is carrying me forward. The quality in me that has brought me this far and triumphed through all of the shit I’ve put myself through. I’m still here and there’s something that allows that. It seems like there’s a ground from where all things emerge and this is the place I’m connecting with. The transience of the world has made itself apparent to me, but something remains; something that can’t be taken no matter the outer experience. This piece of me feels remote and vague because of how long I’ve neglected my relationship to it. This is disconcerting considering that, if the above-mentioned is true, there doesn’t seem to be anything more important for me to generate intimacy with.
Instead, I’ve tolerated the repetition of my past experiences and neurotic patterns. I’ve been oppressed by my habits and addictions forgetting my sovereignty. This has enabled me to forget the reason for this journey in the first place, which seems to be realizing my union with the piece of me that is in all things. The ground for all of existence.
I stand here, remembering my solidarity, still with a decision to make. I feel that I have no choice but to journey down the left, mountainous, path given my awakening. However, this does not negate the conflicting thoughts of continuing on the familiar path and most certainly not the clear fact that things are going to get challenging before they get any better if I take the new route. If I choose to walk the path to my left, I must drop all that I’m carrying and immediately ascend the mountain of limitations. I will face every single constraint I’ve placed on myself, which will be painful and arduous.
The whisper has turned into a howl at this point, so I’m no longer able to give it the cold-shoulder I once did. Is this Love? Am I being moved forward in this direction to discover that I’ve been supported all along? Do I surrender to uncertainty or do I play it safe once again? Do I go to battle for my solidarity or am I comfortable in my suffering? The time to decide has come. Where am I… going?
Wow. You sure speak my life these days. Thank you.