Photo taken by @thehonestdroner (Portland, OR — Moda Center)
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
I skipped a day to speak with you. Who am I speaking to? The individual who woke up yesterday [Tuesday] and just couldn’t. Couldn’t what?
See the trail for which the previous blazer [me] blazed. I’m not a Portland Trailblazer, but #amwriting from Portland, and no path to success lay in front of me. I woke up to see no fire lit. The mountains and trees in my path grew taller overnight, allowing my vision to lose faith in a trail blazing fight.
I had no fuel to burn the trail, no wings to fly over the mountains to prevail, so did I fail?
What the road less traveled means is this; you’re on your own—get used to it. I’d smile after I cried. Say, “yeah right,” after words of, “I wanna die…” Later worry about where help comes from in fright.
The voice would inform me of an eagle—one who soars higher than our crooked crows. One who flies higher than the babbling chickens below. Every morning it spreads its wings to take off higher than those born of foes.
For it is a foe, but seeks like a guardian eagle, speaks in silence against evil, and repeats the lessons it failed to learn from its people. It’s looking down on the arena at its next prey, but first it must lay.
For this one’s a lonely eagle—it misses you, and the days are full of reminders of you.
The path this eagle’s on tells me everything about myself. I did not fail. I was tired so I nested. From there I washed my wings which are now well rested.
I have a new thing now, a new voice to pronounce, all out of doing nothing. It’s what the body needs sometimes. Not everyday is a battle, because the arena will always be there.
Here’s the lesson to be fair; allow the battle to be there. It’s often better to fly over the place of fight, to regain your place and take off tomorrow in flight.
For a road less traveled, there are no suggested breaks in the gravel. For a road less traveled, there are no mates, just a breath to grapple.
Be kind to yourself. Don’t lie to yourself. Have faith your resting wings will fly you by themselves. For a trail you blazed, created the fire to fuel you through this amazing road-less race.
For the road-less raced, you’re up against you in a creative space.
-Budd