Moving Target
June 21 2922
The point of departure.
Which requires knowing where you are
to begin with.
Which presumes
it's a pin-drop;
that your life is fixed
in place and time
state of mind
your relationships.
Not so simple
if your wish is escape
from uncertainty.
Or when there is no point at all;
just the need
to find yourself in motion.
And aren't we all setting out
all the time
anyway?
Because just by being alive
even those of us afraid of change
are condemned to it.
The arrival
is more notional.
Not a point, so much as an ideal.
A moving target, perhaps.
Or not quite the place
you imagined it was.
Or maybe too soon or too late.
And even if you find yourself there,
the disappointment
wanderlust
or unintended consequence
will see you moving on.
Because the old quandary
is no such thing;
it's all journey
except for the odd time out.
Which means you're never really there;
no settling down
no laid-to-rest
no celestial ever-after.
All you can do
is drop a pin on a map
and take what you can carry,
heading-off
in roughly that direction.
No end in sight;
just hoping for the best
and never looking back.
Once again, a word or phrase strikes my ear and I can't resist noodling around with it.
Today, it was point of departure. My immediate thought was how can anyone presume to have a point of departure when no one can be that certain of all aspects of in their life. The word point is such a strong one: so exact as to be almost infinitely small and circumscribed. And do we ever say ”point of arrival”? No. The ultimate destination never contains an equivalent degree of certainty.
I'm the guy who is afraid of change. I'd much rather not be in motion, and like think my point is very much fixed. But there really is no choice: no matter how firmly we plant ourselves, everything around us is in constant motion anyway.
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