I think about all of us stumbling through...looking for through-lines, for the theme that emerges in the patterns, while also trying to be attentive to where we are at any given moment. As it is so often in literature, it is in life: the theme emerges slowly and often down a plot line that we were reticent to follow. It takes some time to put together the pieces, but once you do, it washes over you as if you had known it to be true all along.
We're all walking different stories, and hopefully owning each and every one. The first post I made in this blog, referenced a conversation between characters in Lorraine Hansberry's A Raisin in the Sun in which two characters were discussing life as a long line that reaches into infinity, "and because we cannot see the end, we cannot see how it changes." And I remember thinking how very terrifying this is at times. And I've revisited these same fears again and again.
What has emerged in the past weeks, however, is the realization that in our shared humanity, we will each feel moments of trepidation, uncertainty, and, yes, fear. And, in our best moments, we know these will pass. I rejoice in those moments of synchronicity, when the theme emerges, and all of the seemingly disparate details, symbols and images align. I am grateful to be the author of the story I'm walking in. And I'm grateful for all of the characters in this grand adventure.
I recognize that I don't want to be walking any other path, and that sometimes, the path you didn't even know existed, is the most right. Funny how that works. I'm good with a "protagonist learns to listen to her heart" theme interspersed with "honesty and love are all there is" and maybe some "resiliency of human nature." Yeah. All of those would be lovely.