Life moves often not with the ease of a straight arrow but the free will of a butterfly. Tossing and turning as a nights bad rest. It is never, if rarely a path visible from the start of a decision, but one that exposes itself only after the first foot forward. From this comes the leaps and bounds, the spiraling up and spiraling down.
Our paths in life are not unique, nor are they singular in their criss-crossing and weaving. This is the tapestries of life, the tattered and knotted, loose connections and titanium bindings. It is this weaving of time and direction that creates reality, that builds the form of meaning, purpose and resolve. Through this process, goals manifest and new paths enfold: layering and knotting new forms, entangling desire with fear.
Within the digging of paths, life exposes its truths though often we see them as lies, sifting all information through our own filters and stories: our own biases undetected and unwanted. This is when life folds upon itself, morphing into black holes and funneling a different direction, kneading the future unknown.
It is the forming of paths that all life makes sense, eventually creating clarity if only from a historical perspective. Through doing, digging and building do we see the future we seek or at least the glimmer, shown through the haze of desire and the light of hope.