Journey
His feet were beneath him moving one after the other. Blurring the faster he went and the further he reached. He sees his destination ahead but his breath is heavy and legs are fading. He hears the pounding of his feet and he focuses on the rhythm. With each sound, with each step, his mind clears. The small details that clouded his mind disappear one by one. He looks back at his destination and turns. Turned directly into a forest without a second thought or even a first one. In the forest he slowed down and caught his breath. Pushed through the ungroomed and overgrown path collecting some scrapes and bruises along the way. Through the thicket he entered a clearing to find a stunning oasis. The shimmering light blue of the water perfectly contrasting with the dark green of the leaves and complimented by an exuberant burst of color from each flower. The scene seemed so pure and untouched. He felt like he was the first person to ever find this sanctuary. He explored to find each treasure to take his breath away and inspire awe. Each tree could teach a lesson. Each flower had a story to tell. Finally, the night came and the darkness started to creep in. Right when it was at its darkest the sky was illuminated by fire flies and the moon peaking through the canopy. He decided to wade into the cool and calming water. The water slid further up his body with each step he took until he was fully submerged. Under the water he felt weightless, suspended in space and time. The tension and stress that he held everyday washed away. He felt free. Free from the rest of the world. Free from the expectations. He emerged from the water and inhaled the cool night air to fill his lungs. He walked out of the water to a big willow tree that the branches and leaves surrounded the whole tree and reached the ground. He felt this would be a good place to spend the night. He would be surrounded and protected by the exterior of the tree. When he entered the interior a sleepy midnight came over him and he fell gently to sleep. In the morning the sun snuck through the leaves to wake him up and he felt completely refreshed. Then he noticed the leaves on the inside of this tree were odd looking. He moved closer and saw that on each leaf was a name written or rather engraved in the veins of the leaf. There were hundreds of thousands of names. All from people who were there before him. He wondered if they saw the place the same as he did. If they had all been there for the same reasons. He thought about it the more he realized he wasn't sure why he was here. He saw his destination with no obstacles in the way and he just turned. He was scared. Scared of the change. Scared of the timing. Scared of if he had glorified the destination too much to appreciate it. Then he thought of all those people before him. They were gone. They didn't stay. They couldn't have stayed. This paradise oasis was only perfect because it was temporary. Perfect can be anything. What makes it perfect is that it was exactly what he needed when he needed it. For him perfection changes with him. So he left the sanctuary and found the path back to his destination. This time he didn't run. He walked slowly to appreciate every small detail of the way. Eventually he reached his destination. When he got there he wasn't any less scared of what was in front of him. His heart was beating fast and his mind raced with possibilities. He turned around and saw the whole path he took to get here. The path was far from the straight and efficient line that he imagined it would be. It curved, wound, backtracked, and turned towards the spot he stood in this moment. He turned back and in front of him was a mirror. Being who he was he looked at his reflection and saw all his flaws, both physical and personal. He thought of his journey and who he was. Each detour he took made him the person he saw in front of him. He knew he had made mistakes. He had gone where he shouldn't have gone with people he shouldn't have been with and forgotten to bring some people he should have. However, he didn't regret any of it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back. Nothing had changed. He saw himself for nothing more or less than exactly what he was. Standing in front of him was the reflection. In that moment, the reflection of a perfect imperfection.
