We, Travellers, Cannot See Ahead

Coldplay reassures in Fix You how lights will guide us home, John Mayer sang in Gravity pleading to keep him where the light is, John Muir wrote about how the world is so big and he wants to get a good look at it before it goes dark, and Leonard Cohen brought solace when he reminded us that the cracks that form in life are how the light gets in.

I hear those songs, read those words, and go through life, and I am reminded time and time again how leaving is the hardest thing in the world—until it becomes the easiest thing in the world. How uncertain the unknown is and how it is like stepping into an unlit room. It’s the anticipation of the free fall when you finally let go, when you drive away, when the plane takes off. And then your life, your mind, and the world open up.

And then the light changes. The light streams in. You find yourself on the other side of change and uncertainty, and you’re alone but not lonely—and it’s beautiful. You look back, thinking how afraid you might’ve been, and you find your own hand in the darkness and bring it under the light. It’s safe, it’s warm, it’s new, it’s different, it’s good—and it’s all on the other side of fear.

We, travelers, we can’t see ahead, but how necessary it is that we keep moving forward—toward that blessed light that, for now, remains dark.