Tinkling piano keys fill the air as I sit at my desk.  Morning sunlight rests against the window in front of me, and I can feel its warmth emanating outward like billowing smoke escaping a fire.  Laundry whirs around and around in the washing machine and the dryer, domestic reminders that going naked is the only way to stop the constant avalanche of clothes needing to be recycled for yet another wearing.  Mundane though it may seem, the tumbling and turning of metal drums offers a foundation upon which the music rests, both joining together to define the sounds of home.  And I find it comforting.

Already the year is a week old.  The passage of time races by me, and I am left wanting.  My feet remain firmly planted as they carry me forward on my journey.  Now, however, my steps fall upon uncertain, rocky ground, a path I know nothing about.  But it stretches out in front of me where behind me rests only a shadowy precipice constantly at my heels, ever consuming the road I’ve only just traveled, trapping me in forward motion along unknown paths.  It’s all happening too quickly, I’m afraid, and I’m powerless to slow it.

So much activity is wrapped up in so few tangible results.  It’s all rushing to and fro, scurrying about like ants desperate to find a meal before the rains come.  When I finally stop to rest, I find I’m right back where I started, empty-handed and empty-souled, standing above life’s cliff as I dare look across great divides separating me from the promised happiness that never seems to arrive.  I keep going, though.  Is there another choice?

My own fear threatens to consume me.  Somehow, through no small part of ignorance and naïveté, I’ve backed myself into a corner.  With only this before and that behind, I can’t be certain which way I should go, although, in truth, there’s only one option.  It frightens me, though, scares the hell out of me in fact…  Dark times appear spread out before me.  It seems I’ve no other trail to take, so into the lightless air I step.  Even as my feet tremble with each fall, and even as the ground beneath gives way and makes each step all the more frightening, I keep going, a headlong rush borne of defiance more than bravery… and not a little desperation.

I’m left wondering at this moment, sitting here in peaceful comfort, if three weeks hence will be a dramatic uprooting or a by-the-skin-of-my-teeth reprieve.  Shouts of frustration and anxiety echo inside my head and fall upon my own deaf ears.  Am I listening?  Is anyone?  Night by night the time draws nearer.  It scares the hell out of me.  But at least the downhill slide is easier than the uphill climb.  Of course, it’s the climb that ultimately defines how far there is to fall, so next time I’ll be more mindful in tempering my upward ambitions.