Wednesday, May 4, 2011
I can't know everything about tomorrow, what it will present, nor how you or I will move within it. I have no psychic abilities. The future is as wide open as it ever was, though at times I press it into a Jell-O mold and watch it jiggle in mock salute. I want it to set like concrete that can be etched with promises...indelible and intractable.
But these are the fanciful wishes of a child. Promises go forth as our attempts to lasso the beast. Tame it we can. But anything wild is unpredictable at times. We live wild. We are not concrete. We so desperately want to believe we can foretell forever if we word it in prophecy. Promises are fenceless yards where we set the dog, then slap our heads in disbelief when it has run off. Promises are well intended but immature. We cannot move forward or back on their conveyor. Better a leap of faith...no promise of sure footing, no promise of arms catching, no certainty...a leap into the wide open of us, and it being enough to know that it felt like the right thing to do now. Right. Now.
I will never know tomorrow today, but it can know my feet...leaping.
(This is not about the promises of God. Strictly human. There are things I want to know for certain. I clash with the realization there are no human certainties. The choice then...will incertitude be chain, or wing?)