A lit up map of the times and places, tracks and journeys, that are past ,when the now is asphalt and concrete, hard and bleak. I will hope to revisit my special places once again and to explore new sparkling corners.
In a post from yesterday, Embarking, I shared a wonderful quote from Alan Alda about the need to fully commit to journeys into new and strange things.
The man on the gang plank has his bag loaded as he heads for the boat.
He’s committed to the trip.
Alda is right – you can’t leave yourself safely on the shore when the unknown beckons.
Be bold! Have the nerve, Alda exhorts.
To give an example:
I don’t actually ever discuss the craft of blogging itself on Ebb Then Flood (plenty of people more expert than me do so) but embarking on this blogging journey just under two years ago is the sort of challenge that takes you with it once you actually have the gumption to start.
You can’t hold back, and you have to park that sense of self-doubt I suspect we all have, if you want to blog.
It’s certainly taken me to some strange places as I have, erm, pushed the boat out…
Similarly, I wish you boldness and new creative adventures.
A track, like the one pictured, can be arid and stony, hard and winding.
When winter comes, it will become soft and muddy, difficult and at times seemingly impassable.
Varied conditions for sure but whatever they look and feel like, tracks are purely functional.
They take you where you need to go.
We obsess about tracks – upward and downward trajectories, paths to success, shortcuts – while missing the point that the journey is everything, and that having reached whatever lies on the horizon we see now, another, different, horizon presents itself to us.
Whatever track we are on is just the necessary means by which the journey of ourselves unfolds.
Spectacular curving, criss-crossed ceiling at London’s King’s Cross Railway Station.
So elegant with its purplish backlighting, and just vast as a piece of design
Even I hadn’t been hanging around for the train north to Edinburgh, this would have dragged me in to admire it.
Lines crossing over and over again, like the passengers scurrying to their trains, heading to different destinations.
Indeed, the kinetic and life energy in the place is amazing – all those journeys, with their beginnings and endings ; those unknown (to each other) plans and dreams – in the one place at the same time, intersecting for the briefest moment and then arching out and beyond, perhaps never to cross over again.
And when you board the train, it’s a little simpler – you’re away again on your own trajectory and at least the tracks run parallel !