Filters & Foxholes

I've come to believe the simple mystery of life is this: that every possibility exists in the torrent of forward movement. I am. I connect. I interact. I can control. Simply said; choice is the filter that organizes randomness and defines the path ahead. Without that sieve, we get swept away in the flow of 6 billion, 3 lb. steams of consciousness. Remember, as alluring the ecstasy of chaos, it is the aqueduct that irrigates and nourishes, and the raging floodwaters that obliterates. We are either engineers of our destiny, lost souls consumed by the raging river or prisoners, trapped by the perceived safety of a makeshift foxhole while waiting for the storm to pass. It never passes. It is the cyclone of life.
An astute friend recently said we are approaching a time when we will revisit the items we've stored away in our journeyman's sac. Names, faces, and places will resurface, an opportunity for soul searching, sentiment, reconnecting, new beginnings or final good-byes. She said the tool for this task will simply measure the balance of exchange, the ratio of gift versus grief. The task itself is a sobering one, as parasitic friendships lose their lustre, unhealthy habits reveal themselves as taking up space where inspired thought could form, and the inventory of how much we've learned and how far we've really travelled becomes impossible to ignore.
So, here I am...no longer flitting around like a butterfly, but building wings to savour the sweetness of real flight. Here I am, no longer laid out by the darkness of doubt, but stepping up to demand my due. Here I am no longer satisfied as a fair weather friend, but willing to give everything I have to those who would do the same for me. Such a beautiful balance when the "give" mirrors the "take". When the outward and inward pressures align, even the most fragile of materials can rise to limitless heights and delve to most wondrous depths.