Feeling the tinge of fear in my abdomen I continue on aided by a flashlight and the persistent “must” of movement, fitness and the avoidance of whatever lay behind me. Moving so quickly as to miss the sign posts, I pull out a dampened map and attempt to orient to its dashed lines. I make little sense of it so I can only guess at my next move.
The dashed lines a broken path for my broken wanderings. So hurried, so committed to arrival. Fortunate not to slip and fall on mossy roots and so concentrated in my stride, the actual ground never a partner in the conversation of my travels.
I am lost in the woods in the pitch black dark of a northwest October morning. I do not know which way to go to continue, much less complete my journey. I see no signs so I simply stop. All of this forward energy halting in a place whose only purpose is to remain in place and to thrive by standing still.