It’s Tuesday night and my car won’t stay in between the lines. It’s not that I’m incompetent or unable. It’s just that I planned for a real straight shot, put it on autopilot, and as it turns out the road is rather curvilinear. This happens often I guess. Occasionally someone accompanies me in the passenger seat, and points out my errors. The truth is, I have a horrible sense of direction and sometimes if I am left alone to decide whether to turn left or right, I am sure to end up making far too many turns than necessary to get to where I’m going. I oft refer to Google Maps for assistance, but so the story goes, best made plans often fail. I am much better off with a “partner in crime.” Everything is easier to understand from two points of view as opposed to one. Paradigms might be the end of mankind someday. Some say the apocalypse will be the end, but I say narrow-mindedness might kill us all if we let it.

At any rate, tonight must be an exception to all general rules about me, cuz I know exactly where I’m going and how to get there. [autopilot off…I need you not tonight]. I had an instinct to stop everything I was doing and go (even though I had piles upon piles of ‘things to do’ AND I was beyond ready for sleep). I felt beckoned, so here I am driving—and with the radio off at that. I rarely go without music, but tonight is a rarity in itself I suppose.

So I ride silently to my destination, park, and start walking
…up the stairs.

I have a sense that this might be finding “my place” here in this new town
.…up the stairs and to the top.

Things are becoming smaller below me and life is beginning to fall into its perspective place in my mind—that it is bigger than just me (something we all know, and yet lack the visual representation that serves as a reminder and convincer).

I’ve got an aerial view and it feels like I’m staring through the clear confines of an ant farm or something of the sort. There are a million stories unfolding down there, thousands of stories all crossing paths with one another. And in the midst of all of this the river runs wide and strong below me, cutting the city in half, and there is a breeze that blows long and cool against my body. I’m standing hundreds of feet above what seems like the eye of this city’s nightly storm—calm in the midst of chaos. I love it.

And so my answer to the call is “Yes. Yes, this will be my place. My retreat. My comfort. My calm.” I’m glad I finally found one…