Oasis Or Frivolity?

“I’ll take the enchanted forest tonight, follow the lone doe as she drifts back into the familiar neighborhood of ancient trees, their struggling saplings, and their fallen grandparents. I feel your heartbeat as you follow along through the leaf and limb covered pathway, my friend, a little unsure of why you feel compelled to join me in this quest for who knows what.”

 

I’m remembering how I felt when I was writing the above paragraph. I was feeling hopeful, the journey at that time, if not exciting, was at least fun. Things were going well, and I had ample time to engage with my creativity and create new worlds. The forest beckoned with the promise of hidden worlds and creatures yet to be explored, and more importantly, enjoyed. So, I entered.

Not long after that, the forest turned into a wilderness. Mythical creatures gave way to very real monsters. The wilderness implies adventure, but it also implies imminent danger. Those ominous sounds we hear behind dark tree limbs are being made by things we can’t quite see. It’s as if the bright, full moon lighting the path and highlighting the trees, also darkens the regions on either side of the path behind the trees.

I’m not feeling under any particular assault today. Or any feelings of frivolity, either. It’s a Saturday, and I have a few moments where I have nowhere in particular to be. The sun will fade behind the horizon in a few hours, taking with it much of the oppressive summertime heat. Will the evening sky bring with it “fairies dancing with lightning bugs on and around the near autumn- clothed leaves” or “desolate coal chalk arms outstretched against the somber, silver sky?”

Now that I think of it, it may be neither. It will, at least, be a part of the journey. Two weeks from now, I may not even remember it. Kind of nice not worrying for a few hours about having to have a profound moment, which in itself is an important moment. There’s something, dare we say, biblical about being still. About resting so we can make it to the finish line, scarred as we will be from assaults past and still to come, with knowing smiles on our faces.

 

Author: gregorsouthardblog

Blogger, author of "Emerging From The Shadows," a memoir, Christian, part- time goofball.

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