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driving through snow, so thick i could only see five feet in front of me, i had a familiar conversation with myself with unfamiliar results. i crept up the road, inching my way up any inclines and sliding down any descents, and i asked myself, not for the first time,
if i die right now, what would i regret not having done?
in the past the answer has been either an ongoing flood of numerous items, or a few select things stated instantly and with great vehemence. i can remember several things that have been repeat offenders over the years, usually having to do with telling someone how i felt, or accomplishing some great feat. but not this time. this time i found no ready answer. i asked myself the question and nothing came.
i searched myself, digging deep, and i could think of plenty of things i'd certainly like to do, but nothing that i felt needed doing. i thought on it for a long time, or at least it seemed so as i crawled through the white-out conditions. after a while i decided my answer was thus:
nothing.
i've loved deeply. given that which was important to me my all. told everyone i love that they are so. and completed what i have decided is a decent book. i am, for lack of a better term, finished. i can add more, and i'd like too, but i feel like i've at least filled the canvas. there is now a complete picture upon it, no matter how general or lacking in refinement.
and with that answer my hands relaxed more on the wheel, and my heart beat steady and low. i wasn't afraid anymore. all the fear, apprehension, and concern just melted away. and the most enormous sense of peace came over me. i felt completely accepting. i watched the snow swirl around me, making me half blind, and it was pure and clean. and when i slid to a stop behind the gate, and pulled the keys from the ignition, i was still unafraid. even knowing i could go no farther. even with the weather pressing in on me, so large in comparison. even as the snow piled over the windows, and the cabin grew cold. even with all of that, all i could think was,
i'm complete. i'm finished. i'm done. whatever comes after this moment is, in the words of a fellow writer, gravy.
and with that thought i lost sight of the snow outside and i just sat and listened. my only companion the soft whispering of snow on snow, and the sigh of wind on ice.
if i die right now, what would i regret not having done?
in the past the answer has been either an ongoing flood of numerous items, or a few select things stated instantly and with great vehemence. i can remember several things that have been repeat offenders over the years, usually having to do with telling someone how i felt, or accomplishing some great feat. but not this time. this time i found no ready answer. i asked myself the question and nothing came.
i searched myself, digging deep, and i could think of plenty of things i'd certainly like to do, but nothing that i felt needed doing. i thought on it for a long time, or at least it seemed so as i crawled through the white-out conditions. after a while i decided my answer was thus:
nothing.
i've loved deeply. given that which was important to me my all. told everyone i love that they are so. and completed what i have decided is a decent book. i am, for lack of a better term, finished. i can add more, and i'd like too, but i feel like i've at least filled the canvas. there is now a complete picture upon it, no matter how general or lacking in refinement.
and with that answer my hands relaxed more on the wheel, and my heart beat steady and low. i wasn't afraid anymore. all the fear, apprehension, and concern just melted away. and the most enormous sense of peace came over me. i felt completely accepting. i watched the snow swirl around me, making me half blind, and it was pure and clean. and when i slid to a stop behind the gate, and pulled the keys from the ignition, i was still unafraid. even knowing i could go no farther. even with the weather pressing in on me, so large in comparison. even as the snow piled over the windows, and the cabin grew cold. even with all of that, all i could think was,
i'm complete. i'm finished. i'm done. whatever comes after this moment is, in the words of a fellow writer, gravy.
and with that thought i lost sight of the snow outside and i just sat and listened. my only companion the soft whispering of snow on snow, and the sigh of wind on ice.
