I feel like once my life was one, long road. Each important life event is a mile marker. Walk, talk, start school, finish middle school, start high school, end same. Start on some path to a career, keep on, and on, and along the way you may gain and lose travelers, but on the road continues.
But I don't feel like that anymore. I once was on a long road. I had a map, and plan. And I set my journey to follow those until the end. But I turned a corner to find, instead of continuing along ever fainter into the distance, that the road ended.
Where that road ended, a whole city of roads opened up. I knew not where to set my feet again, so I wondered the roads of this city, trying many but staying with none, until I found another path to take.
I took this path, expecting to find that it would finally lead me into the horizon. A path is never easy, and you cannot see what lies ahead, but at least if you put on foot in front of the other, you can make it down the path, and encounter everything along the way.
But again I found this path did not lead me where it should - where I want so desperately to be. There is no road ahead for me to follow.
Instead, this new path lead me to a field. Try as I might to find another road to take, all around me is a vast empty field. Even the road that lead me there has vanished, never to be traced back to where I began.
I know this field wants me to make it something, wants me to carve my own path through it and lead myself on other journey. I cry out to the field, tell me what you want to be! Give me direction so that I am not the one who decides your fate. Yet the field remains stubbornly silent.
I wait for guidance. I wait for another traveler to place a path beneath my feet so that I may follow. I have no preference for where I will go, and how I will get there. And that's why the field remains so.
Perhaps I'll stop, and pick some flowers. And with their colorful distraction, perhaps luck brings inspiration.
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