I could have clambered back over the wrecked and rusted railroad cars and left the riverbank, but when I asked my self and listened inside the feeling said “continue.” So I threaded my way down the narrowing bank till I found a log not four feet from water’s edge. “Shall I eat now, or wait for the uphill climb?” “Now,” the feeling whispered not with words, but with a quiet longing behind the thought of eating now.
Left or right could be life and death, or just a fine view by the riverside: such are choices.
I am grateful for agreeing to take the time to listen to the feeling that led me to this line, to this very moment, to you.