Moving

The difference between running away and running to is a concept I now understand. I don’t know how life would have been if I had stayed put – living in the land between loss and failure. I ran away thinking that physical change would remedy my heart and new spaces and places would fill the old familiar sadness.

Over time, I learned that haunting aches lingered in the area hanging heavy on my soul and permeated my heart regardless of location. Old regrets moved with me and settled in the neighborhood. With care, I unpacked each mistake from well worn boxes. Whispered words floated in the gentle breath of the wind and found old resting places between each beat of my heart.

In the stillness of the woods, I searched for peace and amidst the glory of Tennessee lilies on a country morning; I found lingering Kentucky memories in full bloom. There was no hiding from the truths blinding my sight. In the hollows of the mountains, I again found the emptiness of my life and settled into the routine until change abruptly slammed me against concrete walls and barriers.

Today, I may only walk on paths but I have chosen these trails and the people who walk alongside. The damp air no longer hides sorrow and I am home in these new places wearing well worn shoes and moving towards a place that is only found in my heart.