“Jocko, my friend and
companion, let’s us away and be off on an adventure. What shall we find when we walk out of
today’s door?”
The youth, of
indeterminate age, rose from the labors of a well-ordered life, restless and
yearning. She packed only the
essentials: her knife; matches in a screw-top, water-tight container; her bowl
and spoon fine carved from the maple that fell during an ice storm in the
forest behind her childhood home; a clay whistle to accompany her thoughts on
the journey; paper, pens. And, yes,
clean undies, dry socks, and most important, treats for Jocko.
She closed the window
in her compact cabin except for an inch at the very top and stepped out into
the spring morning. Closing the
door. She glanced back, wondering. The
words of a once-trusted friend echoed in her memory, “once you open the door to
change, you don’t know where it will lead.” But the questions playing tag in the corners
of her mind lingered only a moment before she plunged into the future.
How many times in a lifetime do we step outside of our
comfort zone? When do we walk the edges
of our lives, just to see what is there?
And having found that edge, do we push it? There are those who say that the greatest
potential for growth is at the edge.
Or do we inch away from the edge, back towards apparent
safety?
But what is safety, really?
Perhaps it is an expectation that we think we can count on. Or maybe it is a shying away from life; a
staying put when stepping out feels too big.
And if I choose to stay put today, can I still step out
tomorrow?
Well, yes, I believe I can.
Whenever I choose I can venture out into the unknown. For the unknown is ever-present.
But if I do venture forth, can I come back home again?
Ah, well, my dear.
That is the stuff of novels and supposings. For each time you step through that
door. Each time you venture into the
unknown. You are changed.
And once changed, well, yes, of course you can go back.
But you’ll never fit back into that old skin.
I really liked this! When I was asked to run for the Selectboard in our town I initially said, I'd think about it but doubted that I would ever agree. The primary reason was that I felt very comfortable where I was. After much thought I decided that we all have a civic responsibility and that I might as well try it out. It's a very difficult job and one that still does not feel totally comfortable. But I have learned that it broadens my horizons, exposes me to a whole lot I did not know, and opens up new horizons. And you are right, I'll never fit back into my old skin.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on stepping up take responsibility for your love of the town, Bill. I was most certainly rooting for you. We are all lucky to have you.
ReplyDeleteAs for moving from our comfortable selves into our potential selves, yes it is always a risk. But it tends to be a risk well taken. So glad that it has been for you.