Are You Really There

Travel a path that leads to a fork in the road and next thing you know, a choice has to be made. Shall I do this or that, turn around and head back, or sit for a minute in the quiet of the huge Oak's shade. Ask for guidance and see, what comes to me, to know which choice should be made. When no guidance comes, maybe just twiddle my thumbs, then think out loud and say:

What is with all this secrecy
Why won't you come out and meet with me
Help me become what I seek to be
A reflection of pure love
When I catch a glimpse of your image
From the corner of my eye
I wonder if we will ever really meet
I often wonder why
What is with all this secrecy
Why won't you come out and meet with me
Help me become what I seek to be
A reflection of pure love
Is all this just my imagining
Or is this really the true beginning
Of what is the new offering
The understanding of pure love
What is with all this secrecy
When will you sit and meet with me
Help me become what I seek to be
A reflection of pure love
©Douglass Jungquist 2004

I would sometimes sit for long periods of time wanting to hold a dialog, listen to a monologue, it mattered not to me, all I wanted was something. Something, whatever that something might be, was better than nothing. I wanted to know that I was not alone, that I was connected to a greater something, so I would sit in silence (except my mind was always running full bore) and wait until my frustration became unbearable. It was common to feel abandoned, marooned, alone, desperate. Today I remember this:

I was in a small town in Indiana on a beautiful spring day. Blue skies, warm, fresh air and a soft breeze. The problem was I was stuck in a depressed state and could see little of it, maybe none of it. I went into a Speedway to get a cup of coffee. While walking back to my van a guy approached, I remember he had a smile on his face. He said "Man, beautiful day". I replied "Yeah but..." and without missing a beat he said "Anybody who isn't enjoying a day like this doesn't want to."

I was driving down I-71 between Cleveland and Columbus, OH thinking how I could never achieve a goal I had set for myself, how I would be ruined, and on and on and on. I went lower and lower until I considered crashing into a bridge abutment, isn't it crazy where we can take ourselves! I was rolling kind of slow, a big truck passed me and pulled back into the travel lane with only a few feet of clearance. I started to cuss the driver when I noticed the huge bold letters printed on his back door: EFFORT EQUALS RESULTS.

The poem is an actual experience as are the "messages" that were delivered when I needed them most. What's the point? Pay attention, resist deciding how guidance will be delivered, and one of my favorites: Life is what happens while you are busy making plans; or while you are busy giving up. And don't forget to say thank you. Best.