Tipping the Scales

I'm hedging a bet that my life experience will culminate in a revelation.  The diversity of my choices,
and circumstances might have led me in a number of different directions, but here I am.

I am prepared for nothing and I am excited.  This is a vastly challenging existence- this unpreparedness. It is trusting the unknown and undefinable. It is trusting beyond the horizon and it's
moments away.  I feel it.

Next month, I will view the near universe through a telescope. The cosmos will come into focus.  I will come into focus and the connection will be life-changing.  I feel it.

Too many years, I have lived disconnected from my life, although I didn't know it until recently.  Now that my understanding of purpose has been fine-tuned, I wonder why the great reveal has been delayed. I wonder what has been missing.

The human condition is dependent, but is it a co-dependency? This is an open-ended question given the continuing discoveries and connectivity to all things past and future.  We may never solve
the reason for our existence, but I know we will resolve to explore all possibilities.  The intelligence
of the universe is patiently waiting and monitoring.

Time is a factor. Destiny is a factor. The two are converging and I can not continue on the familiar path. Shadows have obscured who I was.  The people who forged my childhood are dead and I have discarded the sweet memories as they no longer serve me. I am not tied to who I used to be. Validation for the purpose of a headstone is a wasted effort.  In the grand plan, there is nothing that distinguishes an individual from the masses.  We are still evolving.

I am the intersection on my own life's map. Which direction I will navigate is not up to me. But
I'm betting that the pivotal moment of my future is weighted heavily on my eagerness to connect
to possibilities beyond my understanding.  I believe that the totality of moments that define
my soul, on this remarkable journey is about to experience inconceivable joy.  I just feel it.

Touch

Her touch was upon me again, from beyond the grave.  My grandmother's touch, gently caressing the top of my hand as if her intention was to preserve that moment in time between us.

The memory came upon me, today, as a whispered guide to that same hand upon my old dog.  Vision is mostly lost upon her fifteen years. She navigates by shadows and sound. My touch is her connection to the past and it calms her unsteady footsteps.

Some people are made for radio.  Not Grandma.  Her hands wove the spoken fabric. I can see her
actively talking.  I can see her in quiet contemplation; hands folded on the apron which she wore to protect the dress underneath. Grandma's best stories were the ones when she embraced me. I could feel the words as she spoke. Her belly would swell just before the funny part; her shoulders would raise in anticipation of a mystery and her hands accentuated every sentence.  Palms would upturn if there were secrets, fingers would clasp when all was well and the story had a happy ending. I learned my story telling from her.

It was challenging for her to multi task. Driving was always fraught with a potential fender bender because her hands kept talking.  Baking was constantly interrupted as she stopped to re read the hand written recipes and then exclaim "oh, goodness" with hands raised when she realized a mistake in the measurements.

Today, she speaks to me. Her words upon the breeze and I am once again in her embrace. The old
dog -calm in my lap and dreaming of stories of her own.