Our mark on this world is made in scribbles, the paths of our lives. Forged from desire and emotion, the paths snake from within us into the world, rich with meaning and intention, shaded with fears and anxieties. Our paths cross and intersect, catching together, running alongside or veering apart once more. Sometimes in tangled knots, sometimes chasing, light and free.
Once chosen, our paths tether us to that moment, to each other, to new branches of potential. Sometimes we feel powerless, like we cannot choose what direction to draw our paths next, but we can always choose. Each of us is rich with will, intellect, emotion and presence. We can harness the power of our minds to blow our paths in the direction we most desire; the power of our will to burn up rigid and fixed paths so we can lay sapling new ones; the power of our hearts to trickle tendrils out to others and merge our paths with theirs.
It is in our power to send out our paths with direction and focus and to re-cast them if we don't like where we find ourselves. Never let us believe that the paths rule us and all we can do is follow, cast along behind like a balloon on a string. We are not the balloon, we are the person holding the balloon - we can pull it right, pull it left, let it soar free or tether it to a fence and abandon it.
