Seems we spend our lives waiting, wondering, working hard. Wondering, when?
Looking ahead, telling ourselves one day, one day....
Will I be pretty? will I be rich ? Will I see the world?
From the time we are young, there is always that sense of waiting for something to happen. A sense of there being the time when everything is wonderful and you know why you have done what you have done. Why things are.
There are sad days and long days and short days and days when you cannot raise your face to the sky, so busy you are. Days when you wonder: when?
There are times when you look backwards. Did I miss something?
Have I done the right thing?
But noone prepares you for the blackspots, when you wonder what on earth life is all about.
Whether life is in fact a grand joke, that you run toward a horizon you never seem to reach.
I find it hard not to be the child I once was, looking for that wonderful day when everything will be luminous and lovely, and I will be on top of the mountain and look out all around. And I will know that answer to that question, when?
Because my when is now.
That when I have wondered about, that when is now.
This is my moment.
Everything comes together. Here are my days, shining just ahead: I can see them. I can feel them in my hands.
I am so happy.
See you when I return.