I love you mists, you've created the most ethereal life for me.
Right now life isn't just at a cross roads. Its at a cross roads with mists. One foot in every direction is blanketed with mists, so any hope of glimpsing what one path might yield is down right null. Well the sages warn about this time, do not look at the external for validation. Do not look at what the physical eyes can see. Look, but with the inner eye.
Inner eye, internal compass, conscience, heart, intuition, all of these so tangibly nebulous. But it is the only thing that helps to a surrendered and offered life that doesn't play by the rules of man but to the rules of something exquisitely mystical.
What direction do I take?
The path less travelled whispers Frost.
None. I stay right there. I feel into the feelings. I close my eyes. I examine, what am I am about. This isn't the first time I've been at a cross roads. Not at all.
So now what feels right to me?
To write. To feel. To clarify. To observe. To go inward.