Often I muse about my “path.”  That glorious road I am destined to take.  I can hear it calling for me, but somehow, in the midst of all the shrubbery, I can’t see it.  Maybe it isn’t my path that’s calling for me, I think; maybe it is the collective voice of everyone else pushing me along in their clumsily supportive sort of way.  But I think it is mine.  I think each of us has a path, and it waits for us until we are ready.


Mostly, I am ready.  I am bored with the day-to-day.   How much can I accomplish doing the same things I began doing over a decade ago?  How many more wants do I have to identify before I go charging after them?


But the search for my path is limited by the cloying fingers of contentment and fear.  It is easy to let their noise become louder than the voice in my head that asks for something more.  It is so effortless to say this job is good enough.  The progress I am making on my bills is enough to justify staying.  The friends I have made are living full lives that I can bear witness to, so I do not need one of my own.  I might fail if I venture forth again, and then where would I be?  All of it is true, and all of it is untrue.


I am focusing on the trees instead of looking for a way through them.  I need hedge clippers; something to clear the view and eliminate the distractions.


But in the absence of a mental weed whacker, I find myself clinging to the branches I can feel.  Those limbs double as solid ground, even though I am just grabbing them tightly while I swing over a ravine.   It is so easy, in the neverland of the mind, to create and ignore danger.  Nothing is wrong with my life, but it feels so broken.  I need to move forward, but it is so simple to stand still.


How fast and far do I have to move to feel like I am moving forward?  How long of a rest can I take before I am giving up?  Do I start by turning left or by turning right?  Do I look for a new job or put my head down until I have reached my next financial benchmark?  This city is growing on me, but there are others that call.

All of these questions!  They ricochet in my head then split apart before bouncing around some more.


My day-to-day life has become much better than it was a couple of years ago.  I am “happy-ish” most of the time, which is far superior to “sad-ish” most of the time.  But I am torn between settling into this valley of quasi-peace and pushing forward to the next accomplishment, with all of the mountain climbing that will entail.


So here I have sat, with leaves and vines filling the spaces while I cling to the status quo.  But the world is pushing me along now.  My job is becoming less bearable.  My friends are following their own twisting paths, in directions I can’t follow.


It is time for me to force decisions, instead of waiting for them to grow on me.  I have begun by setting resume quotas.  I am making mental lists of all the things I must do to move again.  I am not letting myself become too attached to the people around me.  I will cut a path through the brush.