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Sunday, July 4, 2010

Independence Day

This is the foreward to a new book I am writing titled Adam's Adventures.  It is a story of a boy's journey into manhood and his trials and tribulations.  Enjoy and Happy 4th of July.

"The Tradgedy of Life is what dies inside a man while he lives"

My name is Adam.
I shall have you know that my year long quest has come full circle and has enveloped me in it's warm yet cumbersome embrace.
July 4th is known as independence day for freedoms our forefathers fought and died for.
July 4th shall also be known as a day I began a fight for my own personal freedoms from a bonded self.

One year ago today I found myself shackled and bound into a haunting past that was to become my spiritual demise.  Teetering on the brink of destruction and despair (although not knowing it),  I came to a crossroads where one path was sure to take my life and the other would lead me to freedom.  Although quite obvious of the choice I struggled with the decision.  I must admit I stood at the juncture for months.  In a stalemate with my spirit, my soul and conscience.

Slowly but surely I shuffled my weak and dispirited feet towards the road of freedom whilst looking forlorn and needful towards the road of despair.   I yearned for the road that was familiar and easy yet blocked at the end and leading nowhere.  I struggled valiantly and there were times I faltered and times I would begin to run.  However,the running would last only momentarily as I found myself short of breath and unable to continue at such a pace.  I often turned and looked back and I could see the sign post at that juncture and it was still so clearly visible.  The arrows pointing, beckoning.     No matter how far I walked or how fast I ran, everytime I turned there it was.  Although I had walked miles I was still merely a stones throw away from it.

As I continued my journey down the road of hope I became aware of the roadside.  There were things of beauty along the road and as I steadied my pace I could see them.  I noticed shops popping up along the route and the vendors were giving away trinkets and tokens, advice and good wishes.  I became aware that at the end of the road there must be a celebration occuring.  It gave me courage to shuffle a bit more. 

The farther I walked down the road the happier yet more confused I became.  I was awed by the beauty of it and even the light seemed brighter.  Yet I became worrisome that the other road may have been faster or funner for there was celebrations on that road too,  I could hear them through the fields which seperated us.  I longed to visit those celebrations however as I crested a high hill on the road of hope I could see in the distance a thunderstorm brewing and I followed with my eyes the black serpent of asphalt that was the other road and it led right into the maelstrom. And I became glad of my choice once again.

I am still walking down this road.  No longer shuffling but walking with my head held high taking in the sights and the sounds and stopping to meet with the vendors I pass by.  I have found that my speed is limited for this road is made from gravel and if I should run I am afraid I may trip and fall.  I wonder as I walk, about the other road, for it is made of asphalt and the journey would be much quicker but then I think of the storm and it has not left the horizon for quite some time now and once again I am glad. I can smell the ocean on the breeze and my spirits are lifted and I know I am headed to places I was meant to be.

I do not know how long this road is but I become aware that it doesn't matter because the journey is good.  I have asked the vendors how far till I reach the ocean?  They only tell me the journey is long but be of good heart often giving me sustinence as they bid me farewell.  One vendor has told me that only God knows where the ocean is and once I reach it I shall meet him.  I begin to understand.  I stop yearning for the conclusion and truly begin to enjoy the road as it is in all it's beautiful ways.

I am happy and content on my road.  The cheers still whisper on the winds from the other road occasionally.  If I stop and listen for a long enough time I can hear them clear.  I want to run over and tell them there is a storm headed ther way for they can not see it as their road is tucked into a valley and the horizon is not visible but I have not reached a juncture on my road that leads that way.  I would have to travel all the way back.  I can only hope that when the winds change they will hear my whistle or my song and perhaps come to see what it is I sing about.  I wish for them to come out of their valley and see the flowers bloom and inhale the smells of the ocean as they drift on the currents of warm air.  Perhaps it is not too late. 

The sunsets are more beautiful on this road than any others I have witnessed and as the orange and red fires up the evening sky, kissing the treetops goodnight,  I find a soft nestle of grass to curl up in and peacefully dream of the ocean and I know that all will be well upon this road as long as I keep walking.

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