Through the Back Door
The sun has yet to appear, but we are out in the back yard for a few minutes after I let Manna out of her crate. She runs around in the darkness, and I stand here with nothing to do except be in the moment. Shortly we will return to the kitchen and I will put on a pot of coffee as she scurries about. I'm looking at the yellow light spilling out from the back door, and thinking about how we all come to so many things in our lives "through the back door". In other words, the lives we finally live, how many of us can say we had it all planned out? Not to many I suppose. And yet, when I think of all the decisions in my life that led me one way or another, I think how many choices there really were. More than I knew at the time for sure, but that seems to be the way life takes us; we make a decision and we go with it, and there goes the next chapter whether we like it or not. I watch Manna at the door, she will make a decision whether to come out or not, or return to her crate and chew on her toy. In the long run it makes no difference to her. Or will it? That is the paradox of living, of being a living thing on this earth. The choices we make draw the map of our lives, for better or worse.