Walkingtheline

A man, this man, walks a line; and in this walk­ing, direc­tion mat­ters much more than time. Mir­a­cles can hap­pen in an instant or a slow turn­ing can take a life­time, or not at all. Like the law of the uni­verse that com­pels motion (see ”Walk­ing is Falling a few days back), the line asks for some walk­ing, and in a direction.

I have been told that heaven waits at the end of the line, or hell. I have been told that I need to decide about that and that my direc­tion on a line will land me in one or the other. But I don’t have that know­ing in me. I am drawn to walk this line, my line. I think we all are. What does this mean, my line? I don’t know, but I don’t think the walk­ing is all about know­ing. I think it is about walking.