You want to know, but you don’t ask.
You think it’s just what you saw written on pages.
But it’s so much more than that.
Something I cannot even explain myself.
If it happened to you, you would die trying to decode it all.
Magic. It’s fascinating, if you really allow yourself to dive in.
But most are too afraid to jump over the edge,
turn over their pillow at night,
or turn out the lights,
and let their internal compass be their only guide.
May be dangerous.
May be wild.
May be insane.
May be impractical.
May cost a lot.
May ruin some relationships.
But you’ll never know unless you, too succumb someday.
And you will.
Maybe not now.
Maybe not in this life.
But you will.
And you, too, will be begging for answers
as to how it unfolded as it did.
You, too, will ask:
I don’t have the answers really.
But I am a hell of a lot closer to them than you realize.
So, be okay with that.
Don’t judge me for wanting to know why I uprooted my entire life, twice.
I know what I am doing in asking the important questions.
I may never figure them out until the day I die,
but I will die trying to ask: