The sign screamed, but I closed my ears. Warnings in all red, capital letters excited me.
“STAY ON MARKED TRAIL” isn’t what I want in life.
You want a marked trail? Go find the guidebook, and slide your hand over the glossy pages. The pictures, perfect. The views, majestic. The choices, safe.
Not me. For the first time, risk calls out, and I am open.
Open to new.
Open to choices that make my husband pull back his head, wrinkle his face, and wonder where our friend, Practical, hides.
Open to facts I used to whisper with my head turned down, but now I look you straight on and just state.
Open to big prayers that don’t make sense, but make my breath heavy and my heart quicken.
Open to leaving the marked trail because it’s too ordinary, and it’s too darn crowded, and because beautiful waits just beyond the red lettered warning.
The idea behind this post was to write for five minutes and not worry if it is “just right”. Today a slew of others and I all wrote on the same word, open. Click here to read what open means to them, and thanks for letting me toss out my five minutes to you.
Oh, and along the same lines, I hope you are failing.
Question: When is the last time you left the marked trail? What keeps you living in safe territory?