will ebb and flow
like time and truth
I sometimes wonder why I ever bother to frame things in absolute terms, whether I do it out loud or just in my head; it seems as though I always wind up changing down the line. There was a time when I thought I would never leave Michigan, and yet over time something happened — a disillusionment with the environment, and my prospects therein — that made me say without hesitation when the opportunity arose for the Nth time, “yes. I am so done with this place.”
There are convictions that emerge and flee as fast as they came, and there are those that stand so long you feel like you could crack entire worlds upon them like oysters; then one day you turn around and they’re gone . . . all you can do is wonder at how you could have thought you were so right.
I can only hope that there are a few of my notions that will stay with me to the end of the road; after all, what does it take to challenge what seems like an infallible personal fact? Aren’t we in control of these? Some are weathered from without; some are afflicted from within; and still some can be taken down with a well-aimed shot. No matter how you slice it, it can be hard to see that coming.
The residual silt of those verdicts is absorbed into a sea of thoughts, only to wash up on the tides to the temple’s gate — building up over time, on the open plain, where wisdom can reflect on the fact that nothing in this realm is permanent.