Wooden boardwalk, Roosevelt Island, Washington, DC

There have been times when it felt like my life was on rails. I just glided along in the appropriate, predetermined direction, confident about arriving at the proper station in due course. It was relaxing, if not especially exciting.

There have been other periods in my life when I felt that the universe was quietly lighting my way, putting up sign-posts that others might overlook but that I could read (if I would), whispering hints in my ear, and subtly elbow-checking me when I veered off in the wrong direction. That was great fun, like a treasure hunt, an adventure.

And then there are the many occasions when the way forward is so obvious, so clearly marked, that only a fool would chose a different path. Let’s see… shall I head off into the tangled swamp or stick to this nice, dry, level boardwalk?

And yet I find myself asking: where’s that clean, well-maintained path headed, anyway? The destination’s not actually visible from here. And just because most everyone else seems content to go that road, doesn’t mean it’ll take me where I want to be.

A Year Ago: Splendor

Lynn and I went to the Smithsonian Craft Exhibition…
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