I've been in a bit of a fog lately. It happens every now and then, and normally it shows up for no good reason.
I've always kinda liked fog.
When I was younger, and my family was driving through the foothills of Kentucky, and the mountains of Tennessee we'd drive through sporadic blankets of fog along the way.
It's kind of crazy to think you're driving through something that you see in the sky every day.
When you see clouds they always look so bright, and shiny. But when you're in a cloud it's dark, cool. It's almost as if the whole outside world disappears, and you're left alone in a suspended state. Left with your thoughts, in an unobtrusive environment.
That's where I've been lately.
My cloud used to be a lot darker. It was oppressive, and it didn't dissipate quickly, but these days it's just a state of numb that occurs every now and then, and disappears relatively quickly.
I couldn't tell you what triggers it. Just like I probably couldn't tell you why clouds decide to cover certain stretches of road and not others.
As we'd drive through the fog on the mountainside, I remember, it became thicker and thicker as we reached the center of the cloud.
So thick that you could only see the yellow road stripe a few feet in front of the car. The stripe let me know that we were still on track, and not on our way off the side of the mountain. I'd anxiously watch that yellow stripe with the intensity of a hawk...
There are certain things in my life that I'm sure of. Faith, family, and friends (to name three). They're like the road, the path that I travel on, that takes me to the other side of the cloud. They're the thing that you can focus on, one step at a time.
But then there's the whole rest of the thing called life that remains enshrouded by the denser parts of the cloud. Love, living situations, income, security, marriage...the unknown.
There may be a time when these things come into focus, but for now they aren't. I'd like to think I care, part of me does at least...but mostly I don't. I don't care.
And, while I could manufacture some impressive reason why I don't, it's simply because it takes too much effort.
How much of my life have I tried to keep under tight reign? How many uncontrollable things amounted to nothing more than sheer disappointment? These ghosts linger in the fog.
All because I wouldn't acknowledge that some things just can't be known, let alone manipulated.
I guess what I'm saying is, life isn't clear to me right now. I don't know why I am where I am. I don't know my purpose (though I know I have one). I don't know why I try to pursue the unrealistic, while denying the attainable that is right in front of me. I don't know any of this...
I remember when our car would roll out of the fog, and we'd be hit with brilliant rays of sun, mercilessly pounding down on the car. Almost as if to punish it for hiding in the fog so long. I remember looking around and seeing the mountain that we traveled up in the dark, cool mists, shrinking behind us.
And I remember that there's always sun, there's always clarity to come.
And when it does, you may find yourself over the dark mountain, and on the way to a new horizon.