I feel like I have been running for weeks, chasing after a destination that I cannot reach. Like a tail that keeps moving and a carrot that dangles just outside the circumference of my longest stretch, they torment as much as they entice: dreams, promises, pathways; numerous possibilities…

Thoughts come and go. Inside, my mind is always active: frustratingly so. Practicing meditation, attending classes nearby: I am searching for answers.

Some days, I manage to get there: briefly experiencing a shaft of light, a warm glow, a sense of peace. But mostly, I don’t. Mostly I remain trapped on the outside; where I want to be, a closed door.

I’d like to take it further, see where it might lead; I feel a deep pull towards a different way of life, a life that is mindful and kind, a life that is aware of its ‘self’ and more useful to others. I would like to give and for there to be takers.

Growing things bit by bit; treating me – this, here – like a seed: I apply water as required. The weeds continue to choke the small simple bud, keen to swallow the baby before it can grow strong; they know that it will harm their own wellbeing. And even though I hold pieces of them in my heart, treasuring the companionship they give, the stories they share, the wisdom they impart: I realise the need for the travelling in tandem to end.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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