ready or not

Things don’t always come along when you want them.

Sometimes you find yourself standing at the top of something you hadn’t planned on skiing when you got up that morning— or maybe even in this lifetime.  And yet.

Something in the moment won’t let you turn away. 

Puts you on pause.  Then takes your breath away with the possibilities. 

You feel one with the path ahead and all its surroundings.  And you know exactly what to do next.  What makes sense.

So you point your skis downhill and you’re just about to shove off when it hits you.

You cannot see all the way down to where this ends. 

Will there be bumps?  Will a rock present itself?  Is there a cliff?  Does it get steeper?  Will you be able to handle it?  Will it lift you up — or knock you on your ass?

Your thoughts jab the moment like a stick thrust into the spokes of a spinning wheel. 

Your legs seize up — a side effect of your heart having come to a screeching halt.

Now you’re torn in half.  Part of you is straining at the lift off.  The other part is paralyzed.

What’s gonna resolve this tension?  What’s the deciding factor in whether you fade left to pick up the catwalk or heave yourself over the crest? 

Is it guts?

No.

It’s not about guts — it’s about desire.

Ready or not —

here I come.