Remember the scene in Forrest Gump where he is running down the road, for no particular reason. He runs and runs until he decides to stop, for no particular reason, just because he was done running.
As I was walking one evening I looked forward at the double yellow line that ran down the center of the road and blurred off into the horizon. I felt this desire to follow that seemingly endless yellow line, for no particular reason. That long empty road simply called me with a sweet siren song of some ubiquitous tranquility that only rests in the over yonder. Oh, how I wish it were so, that the over yonder offered some reprieve from this sorrow. But, we all know that peace does not lie over yonder; true peace can only come from within. We can run from our troubles, we can turn our back to reality and cover our sorrows in whatever potion we choose, but ultimately when we deny our grief and anger we've created our our enemy, our own person mortal enemy that requires a daily battle. Could it be that if we embrace the sorrow and the restlessness of grief we find the balm?
As I was walking one evening I looked forward at the double yellow line that ran down the center of the road and blurred off into the horizon. I felt this desire to follow that seemingly endless yellow line, for no particular reason. That long empty road simply called me with a sweet siren song of some ubiquitous tranquility that only rests in the over yonder. Oh, how I wish it were so, that the over yonder offered some reprieve from this sorrow. But, we all know that peace does not lie over yonder; true peace can only come from within. We can run from our troubles, we can turn our back to reality and cover our sorrows in whatever potion we choose, but ultimately when we deny our grief and anger we've created our our enemy, our own person mortal enemy that requires a daily battle. Could it be that if we embrace the sorrow and the restlessness of grief we find the balm?
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