Lives Not Lived

Sometimes in a sudden moment of clarity – when everything seems to be at standstill for a split-second and the fog of life is lifted – I realise just how strange it is that I am here right now, living the life I am living. I see the faces that pass me. They are faces that I could have perhaps known. They are people I could have perhaps been. How many decisions have I made, how many chance happenings have occurred, which have brought me to where I am? A million other lines splay out around me – different lives I could have perhaps inhabited. I feel tiny and wispy. The wind blows and I am afraid of disappearing into my myriad different personas. It is staggering. It is sad. I wish then that I could live life a million times over and experience every single possibility. It is a nostalgia for lives not lived. People not loved. Places not travelled. Timelines not known. I look ahead and am too paralysed to take the next step. Every choice I take closes a million other doors. How can anyone ever hope to move?

But move we must. So I take a breath and allow the fog of life to descend. The paths fade away, and His path remains. I am here because He has led me here. And He will lead me to where I need to go.

Standard