There’s a path in the woods where the dog and I used to walk every day.
I haven’t been there as often since she died a month ago.
And now the path is overgrown with bramble and bracken. In some places, I can’t even find the track again.
This is a visceral reminder for me that once we cross a threshold, we can’t go back.
Even if we want to.
In the same way, we cannot unsee what we have seen or undream a vision of the future that has stirred our hearts.
Perhaps this is why Catherine Booth’s quote that started my week has stirred up so much:
“To better the future, we must disturb the present.”
We do have to be unsettled enough in our present to create a new future.
And there’s no going back.
Because this is a frontier between two different territories, and in crossing the line, we also shift our identity.
Who I am becoming is not who I was.
And who you are choosing to become is alive with possibility.
There’s no way back.