Some days seem better than others and yesterday was one of those days to be filed under “Better”.
The leaves on the trees are just starting to turn autumnal colors here in New England and though I dislike seeing the sun waving it’s annual farewell, I hold in my heart the notion that it’s departure is brief and it’s return glorious.
Watching as Fall approaches evokes subtle feelings and nuances that are special to this season. It’s a time of awakening in a way, different than the Spring. It’s like someone has snapped their fingers close to my ears which immediately brings me back into alignment, back into focus. The hot days of summer and the heat tend to make me more “ploddish” and cavalier in my attitude. Autumn seems to activate me again and I find inspiration of a different kind on these cool days.
I was traveling a country road on my way to the barn where I ride. I’m always happy on those days that I go horseback riding. It has become my religion lately. As I was driving along I noticed how differently the light glimmered now and how beautifully it cast it’s glow through the orange and yellow leaves that waved gently against the backdrop of a cerulean blue sky. I rounded a corner and approached a small knoll in the road, typical of roads here in that you can never tell what is on the other side of the crest until you get to the top of it. So as I made my way to the top I was surprised to see what was lying on the other side of the road. It was a map, one of those old AAA road maps that were always stuffed into the glove compartment of our car and inevitably tumbled out when we went to open the latch. It was an accordion type of folded map that once opened, became impossible to crease and put back the same way ever again. Seeing this lonely map spread out in the middle of the road immediately struck me as funny and I laughed as I breezed on by it. I hadn’t seen a map like that in ages. With the advent of the GPS, who knew that they were still being made? Here was this one lone map, being tossed and turned with every air current that came along and gave it flight. When I thought about it, I imagined someone wandering the countryside, pathetically trying to find their way from “here” to “there” after having lost their map because it flew out the window. I started thinking of all the different scenarios of how the map found it’s way there and what it meant. For me, this map seemed to ignite a plethora of interpretations and possibilities. Was the Universe giving me a hint? “Deborah you’re lost. Here’s a map. Now go and find yourself.” Giggle, giggle. Or was it a message for the Collective; “Everyone, throw away your maps because they’re not needed any more. You’re all on your own.” Maybe it was just some frustrated driver who, after hours of trying to find his way to his destination, just threw the map out the window and said, “Forget it. I know where I’m going and I don’t need anyone’s guidance anymore.”
However it came about, this antiquated map of curvaceous lines and straight intersections was lying there in the middle of the road, it’s history unknown. If only it could talk. It seems to me that we only really know where we “are” in relation to something else and where we “are” is only momentary anyway. Our emotions, energies, intent, expectations, excitement, etc. change how we perceive our surroundings, so is anything ever really stable? Can you actually “map” fluidity? Somehow a map seems very presumptuous. It supposes that the world is not likely to change although when the world is viewed as a living, thriving being, modifying itself as it moves through it’s gyrations and metamorphoses, how is it that a map can even assume to plot it’s highways and byways? Maps are so 2D, aren’t they? Very black and white. Have they become obsolete? Can we not find our way through other natural inclinations other than following a black line on a white page? Think of all the enchanting adventures you might be missing by not taking a “deke” or two every now and then. Maps leave nothing to the imagination ... no off-roading allowed!
Anyway, I knew my destination. I was on autopilot, anxious to get to my beloved horse and that wonderful smell of “Barn”. I flew past the map and in my rearview mirror, watched as it lifted with the breeze and tumbled and twisted, left alone once again on the ground, begging for someone to scoop it up and find it’s relevance in this ever changing world.
The leaves on the trees are just starting to turn autumnal colors here in New England and though I dislike seeing the sun waving it’s annual farewell, I hold in my heart the notion that it’s departure is brief and it’s return glorious.
Watching as Fall approaches evokes subtle feelings and nuances that are special to this season. It’s a time of awakening in a way, different than the Spring. It’s like someone has snapped their fingers close to my ears which immediately brings me back into alignment, back into focus. The hot days of summer and the heat tend to make me more “ploddish” and cavalier in my attitude. Autumn seems to activate me again and I find inspiration of a different kind on these cool days.
I was traveling a country road on my way to the barn where I ride. I’m always happy on those days that I go horseback riding. It has become my religion lately. As I was driving along I noticed how differently the light glimmered now and how beautifully it cast it’s glow through the orange and yellow leaves that waved gently against the backdrop of a cerulean blue sky. I rounded a corner and approached a small knoll in the road, typical of roads here in that you can never tell what is on the other side of the crest until you get to the top of it. So as I made my way to the top I was surprised to see what was lying on the other side of the road. It was a map, one of those old AAA road maps that were always stuffed into the glove compartment of our car and inevitably tumbled out when we went to open the latch. It was an accordion type of folded map that once opened, became impossible to crease and put back the same way ever again. Seeing this lonely map spread out in the middle of the road immediately struck me as funny and I laughed as I breezed on by it. I hadn’t seen a map like that in ages. With the advent of the GPS, who knew that they were still being made? Here was this one lone map, being tossed and turned with every air current that came along and gave it flight. When I thought about it, I imagined someone wandering the countryside, pathetically trying to find their way from “here” to “there” after having lost their map because it flew out the window. I started thinking of all the different scenarios of how the map found it’s way there and what it meant. For me, this map seemed to ignite a plethora of interpretations and possibilities. Was the Universe giving me a hint? “Deborah you’re lost. Here’s a map. Now go and find yourself.” Giggle, giggle. Or was it a message for the Collective; “Everyone, throw away your maps because they’re not needed any more. You’re all on your own.” Maybe it was just some frustrated driver who, after hours of trying to find his way to his destination, just threw the map out the window and said, “Forget it. I know where I’m going and I don’t need anyone’s guidance anymore.”
However it came about, this antiquated map of curvaceous lines and straight intersections was lying there in the middle of the road, it’s history unknown. If only it could talk. It seems to me that we only really know where we “are” in relation to something else and where we “are” is only momentary anyway. Our emotions, energies, intent, expectations, excitement, etc. change how we perceive our surroundings, so is anything ever really stable? Can you actually “map” fluidity? Somehow a map seems very presumptuous. It supposes that the world is not likely to change although when the world is viewed as a living, thriving being, modifying itself as it moves through it’s gyrations and metamorphoses, how is it that a map can even assume to plot it’s highways and byways? Maps are so 2D, aren’t they? Very black and white. Have they become obsolete? Can we not find our way through other natural inclinations other than following a black line on a white page? Think of all the enchanting adventures you might be missing by not taking a “deke” or two every now and then. Maps leave nothing to the imagination ... no off-roading allowed!
Anyway, I knew my destination. I was on autopilot, anxious to get to my beloved horse and that wonderful smell of “Barn”. I flew past the map and in my rearview mirror, watched as it lifted with the breeze and tumbled and twisted, left alone once again on the ground, begging for someone to scoop it up and find it’s relevance in this ever changing world.
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