When the Blue Road Calls

Whitney 4

Mount Whitney at sunset

“An interesting year is ahead. I’m not in control of anything more than my own behavior — which is not easily tamed into model conduct by any means.”

I expressed those thoughts last December. The challenge to my core beliefs rose like Mount Whitney from the base of the desert.

Could I make the climb to the top of my ideals? Or would I trip along the rocky trail then limp back to base camp?

That 2016 gathering of thoughts ended with, “2016 concludes among the people I love the most. This will help me swerve past the jagged shadows of this year and ride a new road less traveled.”

The new road map wound its way from metaphor to actual. This life journey put me at the helm that offered either the recommended GPS route or the blue road.

The blue road sang like a robin in spring. Consequently I followed the will of my spirit and a road map’s blue lines.

It can be lonely on these less traveled roads. Guideposts are few and far between. The silence, however, is magic. It puts a lid on the cauldron of word soup chatter (social media). With each blind curve, truth reveals itself like nakedness in the mirror. And it is not always pretty.

Letting my wheels roll with the grade of the serpentine road brought moments of profound discovery enlightening me with both joy and conflict.

And such is life’s journey.

The call for balance screams like a banshee. Industrialized nations fester unimaginable toxins into the air, water and earth — so much so that schools are closed and citizens are advised to stay inside. Where do these toxins go? Simply dissipate into a “nothing burger?” Well, there are those who profit beyond my imagination, and insist that such is the way of industrialized toxins.

“Civilized society must consume. Must!” bellow industry’s portly captains — an exhibition of the third deadly sin, greed. Greed is a lying bastard with an insidious desire to satisfy the other six sins. Balance is not invited.

Consequently, humanity loses.

History shows that humanity eventually scratches its way back to its commonalities. It would comfort me if I thought it that simple in this 21st century. The hurdles ahead are unlike the history documented before my time. Not only have we forgotten to explore the middle path — or been forced off from that path — but the planet is in crisis and undergoing a change that the human has yet to fully comprehend and experience.

NO! I am not an extremist nor an alarmist. I’m a full-on realist. Numbers and crucial evidence don’t lie. I can pretend all day long that I’m a slim woman of youth until I stand on a scale and see my face in the mirror. The numbers on the scale clearly state that I’m not slim, and the creases spreading on my face are evidence that I’m no longer young.

Perhaps it is easier to pretend that all is well. Perhaps it would be easier for me to live in the fantasy that I look like the late Audrey Hepburn than to face the fact that I have personal maintenance chores to address.

I remain in both metaphorical and road-trip travel mode. So much to see. So much to learn. But the jagged shadows of 2016 are behind me. I am grateful that my core was rattled and challenged. It strengthened my moral convictions, brought me stacks of books filled with insight and perspectives previously unknown by me, and allowed my inner voice to speak a little louder and roam with those of whom speak truth to power.





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