re-blogged posts: where the road curves

Well, I’m almost done with my re-blogged posts.

For those of you who are new readers: I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey so far. It’s been two years in the making. Maybe more, if you count my first feeble attempts at “going minimalist,” some of which started several years ago. Or decades, if you count all the dreaming. In any case, it’s nice to have you here.

For those of you who followed me from Small Conceits: Thank you for your forbearance as I retell my story here, where it’s settling into its new home. I’ve admittedly been dragging my feet a little, anxious about having to dive into new posts once I’ve run through the old ones. You see, the adventure is mostly stalled at the moment, and I’m really not sure where it’s going to go next. Adventures are like that, it seems. There you are, following your map, driving at what seems like the appropriate speed, and suddenly the road takes a sharp and unexpected turn into territory that’s not only unfamiliar but also a little bit terrifying because you realize your map is wrong — or that the map is right but this place didn’t exist when the map was made. And then you have to get out of the car because it breaks down or the terrain is too rough for the kind of tires you have. Just as the sun disappears darkly behind that shadowy ridge.

That’s where I am. That place.

But we don’t have to get out of the car just yet. We can keep cruising a little while longer before I have to write the rest of the path into existence.

Maybe when the engine stalls, and the road gets rough, and the tires sink deep into the mud and the sun sets and the chill sets in…maybe you wouldn’t mind holding my hand a little? Just so I know you’re there?

Because I’d sure appreciate knowing I’m not walking in that Dark Unfamiliar all alone.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.