Getting in the way

 

Going up to the farm I had fixed plans.  I say plans, because it was an array of possibilities I presented to myself, where as one might have been enough; and therein lies the problem. No, hold on, to be totally honest the problem lies in “fixed’ as well as in “multitude” and even in “plan”. All these hang like haphazardly build bridges over a fast flowing stream. I build loads of them, thinking that one surely will get me safely to the other side. Maybe that is the other real problem, I think too much.

 

Whatever solution to a perceived and upcoming problem I feel the need to strap on, the water don’t mind. I can build as many bridges as I like, cling on to as many dreamed up safety devices and I can think of, but that won’t change the course of the water.

 

As usual none of the bridges got me across, half way over the ever flowing flux of living, things that were not part of my grand scheme of things interfered. Thus I froze and none of the bridges held up or got me to the other side save. I fell in the middle of the white water rapid and had to muster up all my cool not to drown out the here and the now.