The Fog
It has to be there. Right in front of me. Maybe behind. I can smell it. I can feel the humidity. It has to be there. My shoes sink into the sand, a little deeper with each step. Slowing my pace. I stop to breathe and take it in. The waves are crashing in my ears but I can’t see them.
I am lost but I am right where I am supposed to be. Just getting here has been a dream and I am supposed to be here. Still lost. The fog. It envelops me. Wraps itself along everything that can feel its watery tendrils touch. Keep moving? Stop and wait. I can feel it but I still can’t see it. It must be there.
How, how did I get here. The Fog in the air matches the fog in my mind. Just days ago, it was clear. The moments stretched for miles, they didn’t compress into the inch in front of my eyes. The fog works fast, it moves fast. It lingers. Sits and waits for the legs to stop moving. Waits for the mind to slow. Holds without touching. Pulls without moving. The Fog waits.
Clearing the Fog
One foot in front of the other. The sand clawing at my feet. My legs burning but I know that I need to keep moving. Each step takes me a little closer, but closer to what. Something pulls and draws me in. Then there is the noise. A constant, something to hang on to. The sound is like the fog but different. This is free. Like the world is breathing. It’s sounds matching that of my breath. In, out, in, out, forward. Forward, one foot in front of the other, I move forward.
The waves crash on the sand, over and over. The softness of the sand hardens into firm footing. The steps come easier. The rhythm of the ocean, reaching for me before retreating and repeating the dance, paces me. Forward is easy now and still the Fog follows me.
The Fog is different now. Forward is working. Like revealing a new section of the map that has never been seen. The longer I walk the more I see. The grip of the fog, so tight just a moment before, now feels lighter on my body. An impenetrable wall, shows cracks. Still must move forward.
I can See Clearly Now, the Fog has gone
The shapes are more than shapes now. With every step forward, the ocean roars louder, the rocks come into view. The shapes are now a destination. Not quite in focus, no longer hidden by the fog. The fog is fighting too. But now it is losing. The force blocking my way is now chasing me. Motion keeps the fog at bay.
One more deep breath, matching the pulses of the ocean. My lungs fill with the salty thick air. It feels heavy but makes my journey feel lighter. My ears are flooded with the sound of the waves crashing upon the shore. The water runs up to my feet and I can feel the icy, frigid water chilling the soles of my boots. As I move faster, forward, I can start to taste the thick air as it lingers on my lips. Then my eyes really open for the first time. No longer blocked by the fog but seeing what the fog was trying to hide. The faded outline of giants standing against the ocean’s barrage. The cliffs standing guard over the entire coast. The ocean. Life.
My open eyes now see all of the beauty that was hiding. Not hidden by the fog but by lack of movement. It wasn’t the fog that was holding me back, it was me. It was the hesitation of the uncertainty that was right in front of me. I just need to move. Move forward, towards the uncomfortable and the unknown. It would have been so easy to stand in place. To see the fog but nothing behind it. All it took was a few steps in the right direction to change it all.
Solving the Mystery
I am here now. I found what I was looking for. It wasn’t a destination or an item. It wasn’t the rocky cliffs, battered by ancients seas. Nor was it the soft sand under my feet. It was the journey. The trails still unwritten, unmapped, that pulled me. The destination is always changing, always shrouded but the journey is what I can control.
Tiny steps, big steps as long as the steps are moving forward, the journey continues. Like the first explorers seeing lands for the first time, the fog releases and reveals new sights to me. The adventure is never linear, the paths cross countless times, but the key is to keep moving. Like a shark swimming across the ocean of the mind, racing forward, constantly searching without stopping. Needing to get to the next spot without knowing why.
Motion solves the mystery of the dark and cloudy. Removes the fog of uncertainty and allows the trip to continue to the next mystery. Life is always about solving that next mystery, moving toward the empty page to see what the next chapter brings. It is easy to get lost in the fog. But the fog can only envelope those who wait for it to surround them. The unknown may be drawing you but it is just trying to pull you through that fog. Moving forward, one step, one breath, one moment at a time. Clearing the fog, clearing the fear, clearing the mind and opening it up to the next mystery waiting just past that next step forward.
More from the Fatman
If you enjoyed this post you may enjoy more of the posts on my Fatman’s Rambling page. Blogs such as “Screw it, I’m Trying”, “Hiking Alone not Lonely Hiking“, “Winslow, Arizona” and “Another Year” as well as many others may interest you there. If you have any comments or topics you would like me to cover, feel free to email me at fatmanlittletrails@gmail.com. Or you can keep the conversation going by following me on any of the below social media platforms.