I have stood at the crossroads so many times in life that I have learned to live in the intersections when I lack purpose. The only trouble with standing in intersections is that you are more likely to be run over, and over the last few years I have taken a few huge smackeroos. My gut says it is time to choose a road, and move away from the wrecks.
And I am at sea. The congregation has grown strong, and no longer needs me. I clean the building on Friday just to keep my hand in things, but I really want to move on elsewhere in the precious little time I have left.
Some decades back I decided that drinking had lost its charm, and quit. Cold. In very short order, my old friends became boors, and my old neighborhoods became dull. It was time to break out, and I didn't know how to do it then just as I don't know how to do it now.
What did I want to do, where did I want to go, I asked myself, then.
And myself answered: I dunno. What else is there?
Shortly thereafter, I woke up in a strangers house
500 miles from my old
haunt, broke, alone, and I liked that just fine. It took about a year of hard living on the
streets, but things changed and I was reborn.
The last three years I have once again fallen into a rut, where the same story plays out every single time, and I want out. I want a change.
Where am I gonna go? What am I gonna do?
I dunno. But it will be somewhere and something. I doubt that I am going to wake up in a strangers home this time, nor will I be alone and penniless.