There is some fiction in your truth, and some truth in your fiction…also a fly is in your soup

There are mountains that sit many miles outside my window. But because they are mountains I can see them as if they were right next to my building. Usually I can’t see the tops of the mountains. But on a clear enough day, when the clouds have been picked from the sky by some unseen force, the tops of the mountains grace the flat landers with their presence. Their otherworldly, looming presence.

Mountains exist as nothing but a challenge to the spirit of man.

Why is there a large pile of rocks rising thousands of feet into the air? Because the gods knew man would need something tangible to conquer on a regular basis. It is the nature of gods and men.

Lately I feel a future, unplanned, hurtling towards me. I question, in this new land, which of my lives is more real? Is the life I left behind, including my friends and aspirations towards a lifetime of profound wandering the life that still waits for me? Or is this new life, that includes unforeseen factors and relationships, the life that will soon take hold of me and chart my life on a drastically different course than was planned?

A ticking clock behind me is nothing other than a reminder of how little time we all have left. Wasn’t I going to live forever? Wasn’t I going to do everything?

To question the past, and the things that have happened is as pointless as channel surfing your television all day; you won’t find anything worth while. But the future? The future is something we can think about, because the future is something we can change. Nothing is truly certain until we have already done it. And then it is no longer worth your trouble.

I know that no matter what happens, I can be happy and content with my life. For me, happiness does not come from the good or bad things that we do or are done to us. I think happiness comes from within. It is the proverbial kingdom of the mustard seed that I spent so long searching the vestibules of churches for.

But happiness does not preclude searching. Searching, the belief that no matter how much I think I know there is still more out there, is one of the things that makes me happy. But when does the search end? I never decided it had to go on forever.

And that’s the thing with making plans. In the end, we really can’t make any. We can simply do what we think we want to do and go where we think we want to go.

I’m still trying to decide if the plans we make in life are the clouds that cover the tops of the mountains or if they are that unseen force that removes the clouds and allows us to see exactly what we may accomplish.

I guess in the meantime, I will just continue to stare. Out into the distance. Where for the moment, there are no clouds.

Only clear skies and mountain tops.

1 Comment

Filed under Narratives

One response to “There is some fiction in your truth, and some truth in your fiction…also a fly is in your soup

  1. Pingback: Mist « Soju and Teaching

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