The Next Step

Sifting my actual words and thoughts out from among the scrambled words that pour out of me is often tantamount to excavating some distant archeological site.

The last thing I want to do is shake the foundations of the truly secure and cause their tried and true structures to come crashing down.

Believing I am capable of that, displays an incredible amount of hubris and ego, but I am much more likely to fell an enormous cathedral held up by faulty flying buttresses than a humble adobe cottage, by the removal of one single block.

Or in other words, people who believe in ghosts will probably survive meeting one no matter how terrible it is and how afraid they are, but a person who absolutely knows there is no such thing doesn’t have a ghost of a chance if he meets one.

The way is already littered with the casualties of those who are one brick short and those whose feet are so solidly planted in an immutable belief system that even a tsunami cannot hope to sweep away.

I don’t want to add to it.  I much prefer to just shuffle along meeting those who are able to rise from the ashes with a simple appreciation for taking the next step.

The day I realized that this is once upon a time and we are the heroes and gods and goddesses who sit upon Mt. Olympus, was the day I knew all was well and all was truly well.