The Path

I took this picture two weeks ago when we took a long weekend trip to the coast. I was enchanted with the path, and I’ve been particularly fond of the picture. I thought it was just something about the composition, the light and shadow, the lines, that drew me in; things that my artist’s eye finds pleasing, but that I couldn’t explain in technicalities if you paid me. I like the picture so much that I’ve made it my wallpaper on my computer desktop. Giving me the opportunity to look into it every day, many times a day.

On Friday, I posted an entry in my private journal that spoke of my current state of being somehow separated from the rest of the world. As I will often do, I’ve gone back and read that entry several times… And in my mind, a connection began to develop between the words and the picture. And I realized that this is what has drawn me again and again to the photograph. "
The general theme of my life has always been one of separateness. For whatever reason…probably just because I was born that way…I have lived, and have been content to live, 75% of my life inside my own head. People have come into my life, visited for awhile, and gone away. Rarely large groups of people, but ones and twos. And I have been happy to have them, while they stay. I haven’t driven them away…at least not intentionally. Obviously there must be something that I’m doing, or not doing, that makes people lose interest and move on. Probably it’s the very fact that I DO live 75% inside my own head. But I can’t seem to help that…
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So now I’m mostly alone. As isolated as I’ve ever been. And likely to stay that way, with no school or job or social outlets in which to cultivate new relationships. The husband, of course, is still hanging in there, and thank God for that. But, the funny thing is, while I feel odd spending so much time alone, I’m not nearly as unhappy as I would expect to be. I worry that my life is a little unfocused and a tad superfluous at the moment. I’m not accomplishing anything, or really even staying busy. And I’m mindful that my days are getting shorter, and I hate to think that I’m not living them to the fullest. But, I don’t know…I don’t hate my life. I know I need something, but I’m not desperate for it…at least, not most of the time. I almost feel as if I’m in a lull just before something really big is going to happen. Like I should take advantage of this time of peace and solitude because it’s not going to last too much longer. I’m even starting to lean toward not feeling so guilty about not doing anything. I worked my ass off for a lot of years. Maybe I deserve this time of freedom. I’m not hurting anybody. We’re not going broke…and I don’t feel guilty having the husband work while I do not. He would be lost without a job. He’s doing what he wants, and I’m doing…well, not what I want, necessarily; but maybe what I need."
There is a quality to this "separateness" that does not feel melancholy or forlorn. It feels more like a peaceful, solitary walk, surrounded, sheltered in a lovely tunnel. A tunnel that shows me glimpses of unimaginable beauty to the right and left, but keeps me walking forward to the real prize that awaits. I am completely free to stop and look at the views along the way, but I have the sense that these are only tastes of the reward at the end. If you’ve read my sidebar, you know I’m not speaking of heaven or some glorious eternity. As an agnostic, I have no opinion on these things…I neither believe, nor disbelieve. No…what’s ahead for me is in this life, and it’s good and beautiful. And I will get there if I just keep walking.