Any of my friends who’ve known me the last five or ten years would agree that alot of “odd” experiences or weird happenings have shaped my living. Sometimes I refer to them as “one step forward, two steps back” phenomena. Or they are my lessons. Or I am a witness. If I can hold onto that last view, and be a spectator, it’s often safer, healthier in the long run.
Perhaps if anything, I am aware of the happenings, as they happen. So I am the observer and the actor simultaneously. And then because I write, I transform into a third persona, just as active and as “real” - the recorder. But recording is never dictation, it’s always skewed by hindsight, measured out by the depth of my other personas.
For about the past five years, I’ve witnessed a steady departure from the Ann state I had occupied, as if the anchor lifted and a half sail is pushing me steadily away from port. Landscapes are changing. Characters, who look very much like the ones I knew back at the dock, come around and do strange things. Everything is as predictable as the wind. Just when I’m on a good tack, I lose it all or a burst catches me unawares and I’m tossed around and me and my skimmer are thrown way off course.
It’s a hard lesson, this kind of sailing. My little craft is no match for the open sea no matter the degree of my skill or intuition. Reading the wind is a secret.
So sorry for the extended metaphor. It fit. It wasn’t where I was heading when I started. But tonight, I’m letting go of the controls.