The summer after I finished the internship, I took a position in Virginia

and told myself I couldn’t wait for something to open up

around home, which was neither true nor accurate.

(By then, I didn’t have a home–just a place where I slept at night.)

It took a week to get my bearings–to figure out my commute,

judge the local places, maybe find kindred spirits.

At quitting time the third Friday, I drove east, winding along back roads between

the Rappahannock and York Rivers.

I parked where the pavement ended, took off my socks and shoes,

and walked over small dunes to reach the water.

The Chesapeake Bay was vast and cold, but when I closed

my eyes, I was young again.

The ocean was infinite and we could be anything we wanted

I didn’t think about the eastern shore on the other side,

the last division between the known and possibility.

The sun was behind me as I traced the horizon’s blue line north and south,

and everything was quiet.

I stood there for a while, the cold water lapping against my shins.

I watched the dark blue water and wondered what could

happen in the years ahead.

It was a long time before I found home again, and it changed

locations a few times.

A few thousand days later, I turned the glass inward.

I had been walking in the wrong direction.

The drive takes a little longer now, and I don’t always

know where the winding roads lead.

Every weekend I die and am born again.

I stand there and close my eyes while everything goes quiet.

The ocean is limitless again.

I wanted to hit pause on everything

to back away and see what these two months of winter

had done. Nobody else got the memo, though.

So, instead, I kept going.

I stayed up late at night and thought about from whence the

drive had sprung.

I decided that the answer was inside all along.

We’ve always known what moves us; what separates is the

courage to do so.

All this time passed and we don’t know and we never knew

why things fell the way they did.

After a while, it didn’t matter.

 

In the grand scheme, we know what burns inside.

 

We know what matters.

I didn’t make any resolutions this year.

I decided to just try to do some things I always wanted. I decided to live.

The dream buried deeply will still be felt

until we abandon everything.

 

I won’t do it.

 

What I’ve found in these weeks looking has changed me

more than the years I spent not.

I hope everyone sees what I can see.

So, let’s keep driving these winding roads.

What lies around the bend is lasting.