It has been my intention for some time now to build a life of meaning. Not one of happiness as happiness is fleeting. Meaning has weight. It is in the truest sense, sustainable. What moves the ebb and flow and nudges chaos back to its order.
I believe meaning to be the objects that surround us. The house that becomes a home and the hello that turns to love. It is without doubt the mountains we scale, the fear we push through and the whispers we speak in the ending of our day. Meaning is where words cannot fully go. The abyss of the gut.
I can say with all honesty I do not know where my path leads. These words as I write them are my spectacles. My bobsled and pack mule. I can say with all honesty that my life lacks. Time has a way of taking. But I too can say with conviction that my determination is what drives my meaning. It is what finds the gaps needing to be filled and then pushes and pulls, giving meaning its room to breathe and sow its seeds.
In this time of uncertainty, of so much bad emotion, meaning is our life vest. My parachute as I glide and fall knowing eventually I will land. Knowing my course will avail itself and meaning will become my map. That meaning will become our map as time clears the brush for future viewing. Future building.