The path undreamed

I am once more stuck resting an injured foot. The other one this time, but for the same reason and it occurred to me that I am outliving my body.

My soul, my mind, feels as though it is just starting to mature.

Those youthful dreams I had while raising my children are coming to pass. Not in the ways I believed they could, but still they are taking on the form of reality, and proving once and for all that I was not wrong.

I believed in love, in true goodness, in a way of living devoted to learning and teaching and helping others that I wanted to share. I wanted only to love my children and share that love with someone who could match me moment for moment. I dreamed of people living in a world that was good and honorable and sweet.

It is possible to make mistakes, to take a path that only runs parallel to the right one and then one day . . . to be thrown from it, think you are lost forever and alone, only to discover down the new path that life can be what you dreamed.

It may not be the way you thought you wanted it, but in most ways it is even better than you ever dreamed it.

That is the beauty of Everland, of the blessing I was never capable of believing in, of living life in a light that is barely discernible to one not living it.

There is a richness, a sweetness, a feeling of contentment I never understood existed until now. It is not quite perfect, but perhaps that is the nature of perfection . . . it opens the door to possibilities.