Uncovering Who We Are

Okay, Mary (Poppins), I take it all back -- you were right, the sun does come out if I wait long enough (photo). I almost don't want to take my eyes off the window long enough to write for fear I'll miss even the smallest ray. But if I don't write, I won't get to share this moment with you, and that's even more important.

I guess it's that way with a lot of things. We have to release what we're holding onto so tightly our hands go numb before we can reach beyond ourselves. Fingers stiff, muscles tight from straining to grip, emotions high as we tremble at the edge of it-could-be-nothing-or-everything-we-hope-for. Friends, family, the well-intentioned and concerned asking, "Are you sure? What if you're wrong? What if it's not what you expect? " The what ifs pile up faster than traffic at rush hour. But their time is long past, it's our time now and we have to let go.

The reliability of routine. It feels protective, a lifetime supply of just in case. We think we can predict what's coming down the road. But even a country lane like mine is not entirely safe. Lined with poison ivy on either side, the rumble at the tree line could be horses' hooves or a massive truck approaching. From where I stand, it's not always clear.

Taking a step, step by step, a little here, a little there, a tiny torn hole trickling from the load we drag behind, we make our way from what holds us back to what sets us free. It's not easy, we know the way behind better than our own names. But at least the one ahead is of our own choosing, we trust it knows better than us where it goes, and somehow along the way we'll uncover who we are.