Feta Fog

16 more minutes in the meditation position on the rock, first time in damp wet fog that proves mysterious and a boon for relaxing contemplativity. Shades of bluish silver cotton, paint brush streaks of dark in the mists.  The joy of salty feta cheese the first surprising random thought with the eyes closed, but quickly on to the notion of planning and decisions.  How the whale pub and the Tancook dream and others fell by the wayside, along with the aborted PhD and the uncertainties over the Partnership call.  Some make it through, Europa’s voyage a prime example, but how to view the others, in which such time was invested in the imagining, yet nought concrete to show?

The spark tonight, that living those paths without living them is the result.  The fantasy of roads taken in other worlds.  Just not right for this one.  And no regrets at the difference given all the chances given to ensure they were never the correct ones.

How stand I then, on the verge of another June 5, this one amid a pandemic and its global travel advisory restrictions.  View it from the positive light where you now find yourself, 10 weeks in.  Corona as the jolt needed to remove complacency, to reveal possibilities of remote work, to convince of the course for the future.  Jo’burg was pitched as the summit to decide, but in eliminating it as an option, the pandemic helped present the choice unvarnished.  More, it offers the means to ready yourself for it.

Think back to the Dolphin and prior Manifestos, at last the mind is clear enough to do it, the time spread out before you, not on the ground, but in the sky and on the water.  Here is what you need to do to be ready when the gate is next unlocked.  Body? Check. Mind? Check. Discussions with family? Check.  Condo and other possessions sorted?  Check.  Variations of the Work Experience mulled over in their entirety? Check. The chance to say goodbye to the SC in her 10th year, and 50th since the Tot?  Check, check, check.

Off home to finish up another day of 10,000 or so.  I feel myself breathing out the baggage, breathing in the fresh dawn of 2021 as the proof of change.  Shatner claims to be in a “fervent of creativity.”  Soon, so shall I...  it is the portent of beginnings, and I feel fine.