As a child, I had the freedom to wander upon the block that was in my neighborhood, much in the same way that the other kids who lived in the area did. We had no such thing as “play dates” … we just knocked on each others doors and raided each others houses. Kids everywhere, in and out of homes and up and down the block we lived on.
Life was an adventure of sorts.
Our lives revolved around the block we lived on and for the most part the rest of the world did not exist. We knew of the other kids that lived on the other streets in the area … but since we weren’t old enough to yet cross the street alone, we ran in packs restricted only by the cross streets that divided us.
Magic existed in the places we had not yet grew old enough to venture forth into … wonder danced with the space that existed in-between those places.
Behind my house was a development that was formed into a huge circle of homes. It was a restricted “zone” because technically the voices of our parents beckoning us home did not carry that far.
We didn’t heed the restrictions they tried to bound us with for our own safety. We would sneak to the next block by traveling behind the houses behind our own. Traveling from our block through the little space that was created between the fences where one person’s property ended and the next person’s began.
It became a doorway to another place, another world.
The summer sun would lazily filter through the slats of the fences, illuminating it ever so slightly. Weeds, fungi, grass clippings, mushrooms, fallen leaves, and undergrowth filled this area leaving just enough room for us all to climb through the narrow dimness one by one.
We knew that we weren’t supposed to go off of our block.
We knew we weren’t supposed to climb through the fence.
We knew … and we did it anyway.
The excitement and anticipation of our imminent discovery if we were spotted by a neighbor added a twist of fear to our adventure. We would step carefully, taking care to move branches and twigs that blocked our way. Whispering, giggling, and pushing our way through, we would suddenly become still, freezing in place, eyes growing wide with a panic if we though we had been seen.
At the end of the space, one of us would volunteer to be the look out and would be the first to dash across the bright green of the lawn to find the safety in the cover of the bushes in the distance. One by one we would each be signaled to make the same mad dash across the open field, till finally we would all be sitting together again.
Life is like that when I choose for it to be.
Those moments when I stop listening to the voices of the majority that instruct me to stay in line, to stay within reach, to stay within the safety of what is known. When I step out in the adventure and the excitement of what lies ahead of me in that unknown space that exists in-between the here and the there that is delicately etched within the framework of a lifetime.
From the many paths I have traveled; with every step of uncertainty, every step of fear, every moment of doubt I have taken in this journey of my life. I now have a greater depth of understanding of the paths that lie ahead.
Moment by moment as I follow this voice within, it lovingly guides me from the safety of what I have known allowing me to discover how ultimately I am being led closer to myself … I am led back towards the person I truly am at the core of my being.
In those spaces that are dimly illuminated off the beaten path of life, I find myself much the way I was when I was little …