There is a bridge I know high in the Himalayas. It crosses a vast and deep chasm where lush green abounds and rocky waters tumble below. One takes a moment both to appreciate the scenic splendor as well as question the humble engineering that promises to allow for your crossing forward on your continued journey.
It is perhaps a measured apprehension as you consider briefly the structure's age, the many seasons of extreme weather, and the number of crossing it has thus far permitted. You know you too must now join those who have stood on this precipice, taken a breath, and the requisite leap of faith that begins the slow and mindful crossing.
The sway of the bridge, though slight, is nonetheless measured. You dare not look down beyond your feet, between the wooden slates of your pathway. And yet, you’d be foolish if not to enjoy the unique journey with splendor you may get to see but only once in your lifetime. It is sublime. The air is fresh. You are and perhaps have never been more alive.
The wind carries forth the good intentions of the thousands of prayer flags that drape and cover the main support cable. They make the most distinctive rhythm that is augmented by the flurry of your own beating heart song. These are the wishes of wellbeing, left behind by others. A sharing of mindfulness, of promise and a representation of the caring of community that though you may not see, surrounds you, reassures you, as you push to the other side.
There is, as you well know, a pathway to be found on the other side. It awaits you and though new to you and those with whom you journey forth, it has been traveled by others before, much like this bridge. Still, it is uncertain in its terrain, unknown in its heights as well as its descents, and, even more so, it is the road never ventured by you.
Yet the voices of others, those that have come before you and those that will no doubt follow well beyond today can be heard echoing through the trees and the rush of the waters below. And, it is in this shared blessing, knowing that you have been graced with this moment in the here and now, the knowledge you have thus gained, standing between the then and the there, that you are renewed with commitment to welcome the new adventure.
There is a bridge I now remember again in the early morning of a new year. It is perhaps with a similar measured apprehension of the requisite crossing from the old and well worn path into the new, that though even now with both the memory and the year behind me still, I am offered an ever relevant yet fresh perspective of my journey to tomorrow. A moment of my yesterdays that I can draw from as a metaphor for the very uncertain push into 2025.
It is not necessarily a cautionary tale, for I know this journey, in part. Though new to me in this moment, it is similar to crossings I stood at the foot of before. But, it is with equal mindfulness that I must draw from. I am best to remember to stand willingly in a limbo between my point of departure and all that I know and the place of uncertain footing on the other embankment.
So I take in the air. I listen to the whispering of prayers of distant and seemingly unrelated ancestors. I bless the glory of nature and the regenerative bounty of the earth that stands as testament to the continuum of time with or without me. In this there is at least the comfort of perspective. The joyous union of culture. The promise of greater understanding. And with that practiced meditation, I cross, willingly, knowingly, into the New Year and stride forward into what will await in the next measure of time.
Happy & Blessed New Year.