A river would flow and part into its own separate ways. Carrying with each a piece of what they were before. Some would end up murky and some would stay crystal clear. The kind of clear you hiked a mountain over.
My mind, as of late, has been behaving like a river.
It would flow and part, roll and separate, drift and branch. Hundreds of rivers flowing into all sorts of direction, carrying with it, decisions made, mind made up and a lot of circumstantial awakenings. And so every time I’d try to dam one flow just for a second to capture them in words, the others would keep flowing and I’d be once again distracted. Helpless in my own thought labyrinth.
2012. A year of big change, someone told me a while ago. The planets and the stars are doing their cosmic dance that in its intricate way would enthralled a lot of people into making this year ‘the’ year for their respective leaps of faith.
And so it’s true.
People dearest are moving across the sea to look for a better future, committing to a monogamous life lived together with a loved one, saying good bye to corporate world, embracing the nurturing side of life, settling down with mortgage, making decisions that would be the title of 2012. “Two thousand and twelve was the year that I let go of my demons” “Two thousand and twelve was the year that I took charge of my life” so on and so forth. You probably already have some working title on your own and if not, there’s still the last half of the year awaiting to unfold.
Decisions after decisions we make. Some made with the clearest mind and calmest soul, some done in the hasty murky water such that life often presents us with. Some decisions we make for the sake of our own ego and needs, some for the greater good of others. The hardest are decisions you make in complete silence for the sake of another breathing living soul without them ever knowing so.
And so life goes on with not even one confirmation whether your action was indeed beneficial or destructive in actuality, leaving you once in a blue moon peeping through the Pandora box and playing the God-forsaken “what if” game. Tracing back each river to see what barren land it would’ve otherwise led you through. And though you’d never know exactly what could’ve and might’ve been, you can’t help but be cynical to the saying “You don’t want to wake up one day and wonder ‘what if?’”. As you know exactly that whoever pokes a sleeping tiger would perhaps never had the chance to ask “what if I choose not to awaken the sleeping tiger?”