Will

We’ve come far, every single day, every single step, our feet growing larger with time and age, our paces growing longer, forward or back or meandering to and fro with the random purpose and the scatter-brained focus and direction that accompanies life through up and down, fortune and failure, the steady wane and wane of the day and night and month and year. Like the tides we flow back and forth, moving and moved by all that we touch in ways we don’t yet and may never understand, not like two ships passing in the night but like grains of sand shifting underneath the pressure of all that is and are both our and others’ promises and expectations of our lives and their own; as these things change, we change but are unchanged, moved but unmoved.

Who we are is the same, forever and never again. Who we are is as concrete as the shifting winds. Who we are is all we choose to be, every single day, every minute and every second. We can choose to be the wind or the rain or the sunshine, even on a cloudy day; especially on a cloudy day, we make the choice.

We make the choice, to react or act, every single day. To be a mover or to be moved; to be, or not, in the end, what we want; or to drift. Like a ship lost at sea, or to swim toward the shore, to be rescued or rescuer or rescue oneself, both or any or either can we be.

We can. We will. We do. We will make our own fates.