Kayaking the Red Cedar

While kayaking down the river today, it occured to me that perhaps life isn't a road with many forks where you choose the path you take next, like I have been thinking. Perhaps life is more like a river, with a current you are swept up in that takes you to where you are heading. And no matter how many little forks in the stream to take, no matter hard you paddle against stream, or how many diversions to the riverbank you take, sooner or later you end up back in the current, and the river continues to take you to the destination you were intended for.



If that is the case, any effort in which you divert from the current only wastes energy.



So logically, I should just be content to let to the current take me where it intends to, because no matter how hard I fight it, sooner or later, I will reach a point where I no longer have the energy to go against it and I will swept back into my intended path.



I am trying very hard to do let the current take me where it will.



But the question remains, why is nearly every fiber of my being trying so hard to fight it?

The Wise Old Pine Has Spoken

As I watched the sun rise, sending its first rays sparkling over the frost-covered reeds of the marsh this morning, meditating upon my (not-so) lone pine, the old conifer spoke to me. It told me I am just as out of place in this environment as it is. When it told me this, I was so overcome with emotion I was compelled to wrap my arms around it. And there I stood for the longest time, just hugging the tree, tears streaming down my face.

My lone pine may have roots deeply embedded in the land keeping it where it is, but I do not. Perhaps this part of my journey is not about exploring my old roots, but freeing myself from them.

More Signs I Am Back In Wisconsin

In Wheeling, when I would walk down to the convenience store to pick up a gallon of milk, I would often stand in line behind meth-heads buying a pack of Newports and a 40.

Today, standing in line at the Kwik Trip to buy bananas, I found myself behind a person buying a pack of cheese curds and a half a dozen doughnuts. Also, there were no homeless people eying the ashtrays outside the door and no ladies of the night (and day) to glare at me from the street corner.

Look At Me

Back in an office, in Wisconsin, doing web design.



It's almost like I never left. Almost.

Jet Trails, My Lone Pine, and Sandhill Crane

Six Miles on the Ice Age Trails

Autumn Is In the Air