I believed for the longest time there would be some grand, blinking sign pointing this is what you need to do. This is why you are here. This is why you need to do things. This big event would take place, and I would just know. There would be no risk. There would be no doubt. I would just know. There would be no other paths expect for the one right in front of me. It would be obvious. Take this path. The path that is right in front of you. I would just know.
I have always heard stories of how others just knew. He wanted to save lives as a doctor or change the world as a lawyer or become a loving, respectful husband. She wanted to work in fashion creating beauty or become a teacher inspiring youth or raise a family as an amazing mother. As a child, they grew up with those dreams and knew which paths to take to fulfill them. They just knew.
Where is this path? I don’t think I have ever known it. My paths were never that clear. For a while I thought maybe I missed it. Maybe I was busy studying for school or casually shopping or reorganizing something or just stuck in a book somewhere. I never had that big moment. I never had that epiphany. Obliviously, I must have missed it or something along the way.
I close my eyes and can easily see where I need to go. I know multiple paths exist. It doesn’t matter which one I take because they all lead to one ending. These paths easily lead me to where I am going. But when I open my eyes, everything is covered in fog. I can only see right in front of me. I can only move so far.
I stepped aboard the ferry taking an inside seat close to a window. It was warm and dry inside compared to the chilly, damp weather outside. I never boarded a ferry to ride into a city. I never sat in those seats. I never lived that life. I never dreamed of wanting to do that. Last Thursday was the first time I had ever visited San Francisco, and I wanted to see everything as we made our way in.
We passed buildings and bridges and boats all completely covered in fog. I took my camera out and captured as much I could not really thinking about the fog. I shot the landscapes just thinking that if it came out that would be great. And if it didn’t, I would need to plan an afternoon of deleting blurry, dark photographs.
Initially, I never really thought about the fog. If you live there, it is expected. And if you are visiting, you hear about it. But once you walk through it, it hits you differently. It is thick, and you can hardly see anything in front of you. But, you continue to move through it. You may not be able to see your destination or the city or the birds flying above or the signs as you pull into the harbor. But, yet you continue to move knowing you are heading in the right direction. You just move. You move without seeing. You move without completely knowing. You close your eyes and just move.
It still surprises me when the simple yet obvious elements inspire me. I spent the week in the passenger seat battling the fog. Not seeing the road ahead. Not knowing which turns would come next or even if we were moving in the right direction. But, we continued to move. My paths were covered with fog.
And there may be days where your path is unclear. You can’t see in front of you, and you wonder how to make it through the unknown ways. Just keep in mind that it is fog. It will clear at some point, and it may come back. It may stay awhile. You never know what to expect. It is just fog. You will need to move without seeing. You will need to move without knowing where it might lead. Close your eyes and move. Just continue forward and move.
Side Note: I spent last week in California. I left when the sun came up and didn’t make it home until the sun came down. Somewhere in between, I slept. Not a lot of chances for writing or blogging. However, I filled my camera with some beautiful images that I can’t wait to blog about soon. Stay tuned and enjoy your week 🙂