And Then There Was Space

Summer, 2012

My mind has completely unfolded.  I had to move it from the large living room floor out into an open field.  It required the space, like a giant map.  Now every wrinkle, each tight crease, rests flat. 

Reading it is so strange, these individual thoughts free and existing in their own areas.  I'd become accustomed to the folds, trying to read through several layers of thin paper.  Ignoring the lakes and sand dunes from an earlier route, following the wandering blue line, hoping to find my YOU ARE HERE. 

Now it is all so clear, but what they don't tell you is there is always an adjustment period, even when moving into clarity.  I'd thought additional space yielded simplicity, and perhaps in some ways it does, but it is not what you'd imagine.  The openness, the space for all of it to be accessible at once.  The clean idea of it is different than the reality. 

Fighting through information is where my evolution has taken me.  I'm cut out for it.  Elbowing through the crowds to find what I need.  I was used to the clutter, all of it tightly packed.  I could carry it with me. 

Now I need a small airplane, to take me up.  Down here I'm too close to it all to get a good look. 

But I don't see a plane in my future.  I'll have to change, explore one area at a time.  Forget the rest of the map, for a while.  It's not going anywhere.