You know that feeling you get when you’re aware of what you need to do, but taking that first step seems impossible?
It’s somewhat of a paralyzing sensation. Your path is clear as day. You know what the outcome will be if you do it, but something keeps you in idle.
You know what to do. Why aren’t you doing it?
Is it fear? A case of the nerves?
You tell yourself that you’ll do it tomorrow, next week, next month, or when you’ve saved up a little more money.
Come here. Now.
You realize that path will be freeing, but without action it’s nothing more than a painting on a wall. It will forever be something you admire and think, “I’d like to go there someday.”
In order to get out of gear, I sometimes picture someone off in the distance beckoning to me. They’re telling me to head in their direction.
“Come this way,” the person implores; they’re reassuring me that everything will be OK. And, really, what’s the worst that can happen? We sustain relatively superficial injuries each day, and one of those is usually the worst it would be.
“Here, Ye” is a play on the other correct phrase in which we’re instructed to listen. Only in mine, I’m being instructed to head in the direction I already know I need to take.
Sometimes it just takes imagining that someone’s already there, waiting for us and telling us that, yes, the water is nice and we should hop in.
Are you stuck? Have you been idling?
Tonight I am thankful for knowing that the path we’re aware of is the path that will do right by each of us. It may not be the easiest at first, but in the long run its wisdom and lessons will become clear.