Last night I found myself sandwiched between faith and skepticism.
I listened to their carefully regurgitated memories. Opinions they inherited to call their own. Perspectives they have never stopped to question. Sword like egos battling for validation.
There was no pondering in my response. Thinking would have edited the spontaneity of the moment.
Words flowed through me but they were not mine.
“Perhaps we are all born with blueprints,” I said, “like maps marked with landmarks meant to be experienced. Some of those experiences are unavoidable. Regardless of which path we take, they all eventually lead us to the same destination. Some paths are more scenic, providing us with a plethora of opportunities for growth and learning. Others are like freeways, guiding our velocity in such a way that we miss out on much of the adventure. We are free to choose, gravel or paved, freeways or side-roads. We can even manipulate our apparent velocity by speeding up, slowing down or stopping along the way. The skills and wisdom we acquire will surely differ based on our decisions, but the more we resist that which is unavoidable, the more we drive in circles, the stronger the sensation of being lost becomes. The more we ignore signs stating dead ends, the more we skirt around those monumental moments, the more we suffer. Frustration brews blindness and we grow tired of searching for all the signs we missed along the way, all the signs that pointed, and continue to point, to our true purpose in life.”
After I had finished, the two of them simple stopped and stared.
“Yeah, maybe,” they said. “Maybe you are right.”
Silence ensued.
It doesn’t matter what path you have chosen.
It doesn’t matter which path you take.
All that matters is that you drink from the experiences of the path you are on.