Saturday, 12 April 2014

On metaphoric roads and hoping I never find the end of mine

I had a conversation with a friend recently. She said something and I misinterpreted the meaning. I relayed the wrong story.

I felt bad about it.

Happily for me she told me I was wrong and I had an opportunity to apologise. I'm apologising here too. I just love that woman to bits.

She said something interesting then, that she didn't think for her it was the end of the road. And it got me pondering.

Loads of big conversations this past month. Actually, truck loads of huge conversations these past few years. The biggest of my life. I love 'em all. Especially the one's I'm most scared of having.

At the end of all of it I recall something my therapist said to me once. That life is a series of letting go and moving forward and that that process never ends. At the time it really didn't sink in.

Maybe it was too obvious to get my head around, but today, it sank in.

I don't want my road to end. Ever. I want to keep walking on my road until well after I'm dead. I know there will be twists and forks at some points. I know it's hard staring down eight possible routes. I've stood still in that place before and it was so hard to choose.

I know myself now enough to know I no longer care if I choose the wrong one. Sometimes I pick the scariest looking one just for fun. Mistakes...happy endings...to me sometimes it's irrelevant.

If I always stay true and open and courageous, follow my heart if you like, I feel I can't go wrong.

Whatever happens it's gonna be amazing - is the current slogan in my household. Sometimes my housies and I say it to each other and just grin.

It feels right and it's not let me down so far.

Nothing wrong with standing still either.

Then I feel sometimes I spend too much time analysing. And I'm doing that now. Another thing to let go and move forward on perhaps. 

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