Wednesday, April 12, 2017
Where Things Went Right
In some other universe you wake up confident that you did the right things. You swing your legs out into the day and confidently stride toward your destiny, the footfalls there waiting for you, molded already in clay, recorded as you pass, for posterity. People know who you are. They see your conviction, your alignment, your absolute resonance with the music running through every atom, molecule, and cell of you. Your touch has special power and you smile a lot. It's been a good life and you are grateful, but you wonder sometimes about the other possibilities, like the one in which another you fell through a crack in the system where something went wrong. A botched question or two there sent you into a tailspin of obscurity and closed doors. You think about knowing and how it leads to exile and nakedness. Eden was closed a long time ago you think as you turn to accept the latest award for your greatness.